The Sad, Bitter Truth
by mariannefaithful
Summary: Elle Beckett was just an average, ordinary teenage girl living the (nearly) normal life with her mother- until one day tragedy insues and flips her whole life around. To make things even better, she's sent by her new supposed guardian to live with a different family- in her case, the McCartneys. Even as things begin to look better, it seems like Elle's whole life is crashing down.
1. Being for The Benefit of Mr Alvey

**A/N: Hey guys! This is my first Beatles fanfic and my first fanfic since like, prehistoric ages. I wrote this groggily at two in the morning, so please ignore any grammatical or spelling errors. *sighs* My random writing urges. Feedback is greatly appreciated, and any criticism that will help benefit future writing would just be great. Thank you for reading this (if you did, haha and thank you), and see you at the end of the chapter!**

Liverpool,_ December 1958_

I reeled the window of Mr. Alvey's rickety old orange drophead 1951 Bentley down as I breathed in the refreshing sent of the cool sea air as we drove by the port. I have to say, this would probably be the best (_and only_) perk of my moving to Liverpool. We never had that privilege back home.

And _just_ as I was beginning to relish the sea breeze-

"Um, miss, if you don't mind closing that, I'm finding it a tad chilly in here. I'm afraid of catching a cold, you know," Alvey said sneeringly (I _do _hope he's not doing this on purpose) as he swatted his small hand with abnormally stubby fingers towards me, "My own two children at home- Penn and little Emma- oh you should really meet them one day, they're just darling- have the flu at home right now... rather awful, isn't it? Poor kids, sick right before holiday." He wheezed as he clucked his tongue whilst tapping the steering wheel.

I narrowed my eyes and sighed as I closed the window. Oh, how I hated my caretaker. He wasn't a bad person, but he just seemed a bit stand-offish to me. He never really, do _anything._ He was just, simply, there. ...Now, that I think about it, actually, _technically speaking,_ he was _supposed _to be the one taking care of me, but had decided to take it onto his own hands by giving me to his _cousin _instead. Was I really that unwanted?

_But, who am I to say so?_

I closed my eyes and leant back in his battered up passenger seat.

Without opening my eyes, I asked, "So who is this _cousin_ of yours, anyways?"

I could hear his voice quiver nervously at my question. "Oh, I'm glad you asked. He's a distant cousin of mine, who, lucky for you, was _very_ open to the idea of taking you into his home and his care." We turned down a street, and as he hit a red light, he slammed on his brakes abruptly, jerking me forward and opening my eyes stubbornly just in time to see that he nearly hit the motorcyclist in front of us, too. I glanced at Mr. Alvey and saw him mutter under his breath, _"These wild hooligans...don't know any better, that's for sure...better be brought to law..."_

He slowly turned his face to me, and jumped a little to see me, legs crossed and looking at his skeptically. It worked.

Alvey turned back to his steering wheel and slightly propped the porkpie hat sitting on his hat higher on his head, which had gone a bit askew during his small mishap, nervously. But then again, almost everything he did seemed nervous.

"I really do apologize about not being able to look after you, Estella." I winced as he used my proper first name...I hated it.

Oh, and if you were wondering, my full name is Estella Ginger Beckett. To be honest, I preferred to be called simply by my nickname: Elle. Or using my middle name would be fine, too.

"I was actually very honored to hear that your mother decided to put me in her will, saying that _I_ be your caretaker if...anything were to happen." He took an awkward side glance at me.

I grimaced silently as I continued to watch the buildings and people flying by through the side window. I didn't want him to bring up my mother's passing- it was so... _unexpected._

Remembering it all was so easy yet so painful at the same time- I was coming home for school, only to find the front door locked. When my mother was home, which she usually was, she left it open so I wouldn't have to fuss with keys- I have to admit, I was rather (and still am) clumsy and forgetful with my first pair and my mother agreed I didn't exactly need them. So, you can assume naturally something was up.

_"Mum? Are you home?" I asked nervously as I rapped on the door. What's going on? I knocked again. No response. Maybe my mother was in the kitchen on the phone?_

_I walked over to the side of the house, and climbed my way around our bush. _

_Ugh, darn thorns. My lousy school uniform which consisted of a drab grey sweater over a red plaid skirt decided to get in the way. No big deal, I thought- I had more important things of another matter I needed to tend to._

_I wiped off the moisture from the kitchen window with my sleeve to find everything that I didn't want to see- my mother, collapsed on the floor. She seemed so lifeless, helpless- arms spread out, legs mangled, laid face down on the floor. Blood splattered everywhere._

_Without much thought, I grabbed our gardening hose and slammed the end through the glass window and climbed through, onto the blood stained floor and clutched her unmoving body in my frail arms. As I turned her body over, I found a gaping wound in her chest- a gunshot wound no doubt. I was gently shooken when my mother made a faint sound, escaping from her chapped lips._

_"Elle...please..."_

_"M-mum...w-who did this?!", I cried out loud as I started shrieking for help. _

_"No...calm down...whatever happens...whatever you...may...hear...please don't..."_

_"W-what? What are you saying?!"_

_"I love you, Elle."_

_I inhaled sharply as my mother's head rolled over to the side. I cried even harder. I held her blood stained body to my chest, and I didn't care if blood got on my god damned school uniform. I didn't care about anything else._

_I held her closer. "I love you too, mum."_

_I smiled a little as I brushed her slightly greying hair out of her face; even now, she still looked as beautiful as ever. But what did she mean, "whatever you may hear...please don't...?"_

_Thinking for a moment, a turned my head thoughtfully to the side of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the shotgun. _

_"Hey, Ginger- I heard you screaming and I-" I heard our neighbor's son, Finn, run in- but it was too late. The sight was too much for me to take- then everything went black._

I can't believe this all happened less than a week ago.

Waking me up from my nightmarish (_no kidding_) trance- "You're probably surprised by this, but your mother and I were very good friends back in college. But I have a busy life and a busy schedule raising two children whilst having a fleeting career as a businessman, and quite frankly, I simply do not have the time to be taking care of another human being, let alone someone your age...how old are you, again?" he question as we turned a corner. I could see a cluster of homes in the distance. We were near.

"...what? Oh! Um, I'm about to turn seventeen this month, sir. On the thirteenth."

"Ah."

I sighed thoughtfully as I reminisced of all the fun and good times I had back in Oxford. Of course I would miss my friends back home , but I would prepare for a new life here, and look on the bright side. It would've been what my mother wanted, anyhow.

We pass through a couple more blocks of silence, when he decide to break the silence by clearing his throat: "And by the way, your new guardian's name is," he paused to cough into his pocket hanky- "Jim. Jim McCartney. His wife had passed away not so long ago so I'd be careful around that subject if I were you."

Funny, aren't you careful around _my _subject aren't you... Uhm, anyways...

He paused thoughtfully and added, "And he has two sons, Paul and Mike. From what I hear" -very reasuring, Alvey- "they're about your age, so you musn't worry about making friends here," he paused again, "...I suppose. Just don't fool around with them, that's all. Mr. McCartney has enough on his hands already, so please, excuse my language- _don't be a bloody pain in the_ arse."

_Oh, wasn't this going to be_ fun.

**Welll here it is! I don't know if this chapter was interesting enough, but trust me, it gets better. I thought myself that this was a pretty long chapter, so I guess if you like that please let me know! I just hate when people leave short chapters. It just leaves me wanting more!**

**Oh by the way my tumblr is .com, if you wanna talk or whatever, I guess. **

**B) ~peace**


	2. A Way Out

A/N:** Sooo here's another chapt. guys. Welcome!**

**I don't**** care if you find my story good or bad, let me know what's on your mind! I really appreciate feedback. Oh, and by the way the FanFiction site blocked out my tumblr in the last one, so if you're still interested (which I doubt?), it's patboyd. **

**Update: This chapter fucking crashed halfway and there was NO WAY TO RECOVER IT so I had to rewrite the whole thing. Sorry. I'm just pissed.**

**Thanks for reading! Let's see how this unfolds...**

**(I'll stop now)**

As we were approaching the well kept red bricked residence, I could feel a dropping feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if they didn't like me? The McCartneys? I seemed as unwanted as I was to Mr. Alvey.

Oh great, now I'm having even more second thoughts. Why did I go along with this in the first place? I shouldn't even be in this city- I should be in MY city, MY home, Oxford. And that's that.

Maybe I should just make a split for it- right when he parks the car, I'll run- as fast as I can- I'll get to the nearest phone booth, call... call who?

Let's see. Who would be willing to take me in such a short notice? Yes, besides the McCartneys, who were out and over the minds.

Okay, well, I'm kinda out of family members that I can reach into contact within a short period of time. What was the last family member I saw? Aunt Mary? Maybe...? Oh, who am I kidding, she's probably off traveling to some exotic place deep in India. The chances of getting into contact with her was one to nothing. But...hey, backpacking in India doesn't sound that bad...

No. Get a grip Elle. We'll scratch that one off the list.

Okay, friends...friends...friends from school. Let's revisit, shall we? Jaimie. No, she went on holiday with her family the week before my mother... you know. Charlotte. No, she hates my guts now, remember? I said stupidly to myself in my head. How about Grace?... No, Grace's parents think I'm a 'bad influence' on their daughter. They would kick me out of the city the second I'd land on the front porch step- no, breathed within a five mile radius of their home. When have I ever done wrong? What's wrong with a little adventure?

I ran through a nonexistent list in my mind of possible candidates. Let me tell you this, I'm not doing so hot right now. I guess I can say I wasn't doing so well in terms of popularity back home. But... it was HOME. I needed to go back there. Others would want to leave if they were in my shoes... but not me. And when I say this, I mean it.

We began nearing the house, but luckily poor old Alvey had to look for a parking spot. God bless this city and their cars. Hey, maybe you're not so bad, after all?

...nah. I still hate you.

...OKAY. People...people I know... friendly people I know... people that're in good terms with me... neighbor... Finn! Finn Everetts! He was there to bring me to the hospital after he found me unconscious on the floor the other day. Reliable. I've also known him since grade school, and although he's always been that annoying little twat in my class, he was a good kid, I suppose. And his folks... well, they seem like good people. They always invited mum over for tea whilst I was at school.

So, Finn it is.

Just as I was finalizing my escape plan and my seeked place of refuge with the Everetts, Mr. Alvey cranked the car to a halt. It was go time. Elle Ginger Beckett, it was now or never.

As he turned the opposite direction to unbuckle his seat belt, I tore the seat belt over my head, whisked my belongings out of the back seat, and nearly, just nearly, as it seemed, ripped the damned car door open (as if it wasn't dying enough) and sprinted my way through the freezing and unfamiliar streets of Liverpool. From the back of my head, I hear in the faint distance a man yelling. I have my bets on Alvey. He began coughing very loudly.

There's no turning back now, I reminded myself. Think of how much better they'll be without you.

I panted heavily as I locked myself inside the frosty telephone booth. I heaved a sigh of relief as I closed my eyes, just to enjoy this one moment of peace from the world.

...Nevermind that, I thought, and I got to work.

I dropped my mother's matching hard-shelled creamy yellow and green traveling cases on the floor as I bursted one of them open. I shuffled through some clothes, books, a journal and some loose items to find a small note- I didn't know it then, but it sure will come handy now.

_Dear Elle, AKA Ginger_

_I'm sorry to hear of your loss. Ms. Beckett was a wonderful woman and she will forever be missed. _

_On account of your welfare, how are you doing? Fine? I hope so. I don't know if you remembered, but I brought you back to the hospital after I found you, faint on the ground! I was so shocked to come to the scene when I heard you screaming from your open- or shall I say smashed?- kitchen window. I'm so, dreadfully sorry. _

_Well, if you ever need a friend to talk to, here I am -_

_x-(xxx)-xxx-xxx (**obviously can't put a real number here, guys)**_

_Til then! Best of luck to you, and can't wait 'til I see you again,_

_love,_

_Finn xx_

I smiled a little to myself to know someone was thinking about me. I found the note on my bedside table at the hospital after I awoke from unconciousness whilst I was recovering from the incident. I hadn't found the opportunity to really go through reading the whole thing yet- I knew I spotted a number in there somewhere.

I briskly dug through my coat pockets, pushing aside my old gum wrappers- an old bad habit of mine- ticket stubs from who knows when, and- aha, spare change- just what I was looking for. I hurriedly shoved the appropriate amount of coins into the telephone set, and dialed the number from Finn's note.

Waiting anxiously for Finn, or simply someone at his house to pick up- I spotted some characters in the distance running towards the booth. I thought to myself nervously- they better not be thugs- thank god I'm in here. I bunched towards the corner of the booth shaded by some frost on the booth's window, just for some self reassurance.

Suddenly the dial tone is lifted.

"Hello?", a bright, cheery, and most importantly familiar voice rings through the phone.

I held it in a little closer, so it wouldn't go away.

"Y-yes- uhm, hello, is this Finn?" I asked, although I knew who it was. I just didn't want to seem as strange to him as I already was.

**Well, here it is. I'm sorry if my writing skills were lacking in this chapter. I didn't have enough time to add nice stuff like, I don't know- better wording and italics. I'm weird, sorry.**

**Agh! No Beatles yet? Well don't worry- there'll be plenty of Beatles action in the next chapter! I split the chapter in half, so stay tuned...**

**I'm such a dork. **

**B)**


	3. Liverpool Thugs

A/N:** Another chapter, hombrooos. I just really love updating this story.**

**Now, what you've all been waiting for (hopefully, haha)... The Beatles (one of them only, actually ((oops I lied)), Paul- for this chapter, sorry, guys- OH mY GOd his birthday is tomorrow holy fuck cakes) are. HERE.**

"Well now, who else would it be?" I could pratically see him grinning through the phone. "And this must be Ellie, right? How've you been doing? I assume you read the letter I left you."

I paused, carefully running through what I was going to say to him.

"Yes. And... uhm, well. The things is..." I twirled the coiled telephone wire and bit my lip nervously. Okay, here goes nothing.

"After what happened back in Oxford, I was brought by Mr. Alvey- my new guardian, by the way- well, he was supposed to be- but honestly, that's a story for another time-" I spurred out quickly, hoping he would be getting what I was saying. "But anyways, he brought me to Liverpool, of all places, and now he's giving me off to some stranger- well, he's his cousin actually, and-"

I was suddenly interupted by a loud slam on the booth's door.

"What the..." I lowered the phone and turned around to see- just my luck, the Liverpool thugs from earlier.

Before I could even scream, the tall man in a ridiculous leather get-up and his smaller, friendlier looking accomplance wretched the door open. Just as I was about to make a run for it, the bigger one pulled me out of the booth, making me drop the phone and dangle from its cord.

He then wrapped my arms behind my back and held me tightly against his chest.

"IS THIS HER?" He said rather loudly. What was going on? Was a being held hostage?! Please, oh no, someone...please...

I began screaming for help, and began bashing my legs against him, struggling to be set free. "Get away from me you fucking rapist!" I shrieked.

His grip loosened on me. "Now hold on now, darling..." I turned to get a better look on his face.

He had a smug expression on his face, his face... he had this long brown hair that was slightly quiffed up, and had these adorable droopy eyes and these child-like cheeks with a sort of, I don't know...a sort of rosey tint and... What the hell was I talking about?

I heard a loud panting coming from around the corner. A sort of wheezing sound... Alvey! Thank God, you old man, who'd knew he would come to get me, right when I was in danger?

"Mr. Alvey! Thank God you came! Please help me, these thugs came and got me and-"

He crouched onto the floor, and continued to wipe sweat from his forehead.

"What on earth or you talking about, Miss Beckett? These are Mr. McCartney's sons, Paul and Mike. Please be more polite next time, shall we? And what were you doing, trying to run off like that?!" His cheeks turned bright red with frustration as he spat his words at me. "Were you thinking of living in the booth your whole life?" He said, seeing my open suitcases strewn messily across the floor.

He stood up from the ground and looked at the boys brightly. Man, did this guy hate me. "Now boys, thank you for getting her for me. I do apologize on her behalf for her meeting you this way." His eyes fell on Paul, who was still pratically hugging me against him. "Uhm," he continued awkwardly. "Thanks Paul, but you can let go of her now."

"Oh. Right." He let go of me, but as Alvey turned away and asked Mike to help collect my belongings, Paul twirled me around to set me right under his face. Wow, was this boy tall.

"You know... I didn't really mind." He winked, and I shuddered as I shook his grip off me.

Ugh. What a fucking lowlife. "Look, I have a lot on my hands already, and I don't need you to be doing this whole ...thing you're doing."

"Mm." He slicked his hair back confidently. "Well, if you ever find the time... we could do something a little more... long term." He leaned even closer, gave me a sly smirk, then strode away, following the others.

I grunted and folded my arms tightly against my chest. What was up with this dude anyways? I met him, what was it, five minutes ago?

Whatever, I'll just put him aside for now.

I began to follow the rest, and decided to walk next to Mike, Paul's younger brother. I shifted my position to the left side to avoid any contact with Paul.

"Hey, it's really nice of you to be holding my bags for me."

"Wh- oh! Uhm..." I could see his cheeks start to turn a slight shade of pink. "O-oh, it's mothing, really." He grinned shyly, then turned away from me to focus on the path, very intensely.

Well, I guess there would be a better time to get to know each other better. Or maybe he just didn't like me. Alright.

We got to the steps of the house and in one swift motion, Paul opened the unlocked door.

"We're hoooome!" He sang loudly.

"Yeh, yeh, I think I got that already," their father- well, I assume, came around the living room wall into the entrance area, and spotted me- "O-oh! Uhm, hello, Estella. I'm so glad you've came to stay with us. ...although I'm not so sure how you feel about it since you...uh, ran off before."

I breathed in awkwardly before he cut me off by laughing and saying, "Oh, no- it's quite alright. We may seem like a crowd of rowdy ol' fellas," he said, collapsing one arm around my shoulder in an attempt to make me feel welcome, "But trust me, we'll grow on ya."

"Oh, that's nice to hear," I smiled softly. "And by the way, you can call me Elle, or Ginger if you'd like, Mr. McCartney."

"Ah, those are pretty names..." He paused thoughtfully for a second. "I prefer Elle."

"That's alright. So, umm..."

Alvey, suddenly alerted, "Well, I really must go now. Estella, good bye- Jim, thank you so much, I'll make it up for you later- and you boys-" He leaned in forward, looked them straight in the eye, and said, "Play nice."

I could see Mike tremble a little, but that damn Paul kid looked as coy as ever.

And without futher ado, Alv walked out, shut the door, and left me standing there awkwardly at the bottom of the stairwell, next to a pair of suitcases, a grown man, and his teenage sons.

There was a small period of silence before Paul quipped up, "Why don't I show Ellie to her new room?"

Me. McCartney smiled brightly and replied, "Good idea- you do that- and after, you could show her around town! Let her get to know your friends an-"

"Yes Dad, I know." And with that, he grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs.

**yo, how was it? please keep in mind im doing everything on my phone right now so I apologize for any errors or crappy writing**~

AND **OH MY GOD MY BABY'S TURNING 71 TOMORROW GOD BLESS**


	4. Reflection

**A/N: You know what's really funny?... This chapter was supposed to be the shortest chapter yet but i just decided to push for it for you guys so its actually the longest one (yeah its only the 4th chapter but its nearly 2k words so like...hi five on my part right?...uh...)**

**oh jeez, like wow I got such great reviews on the last chapter like I didn't even know I could even get positive feedback on anything, really, and just- idk I have the biggest grin ever. You guys are so adorable and I just have like a sorts of feels right now...I wish I could thank you all individually, for reviewing and giving great feedback. It may or may not have meant much to you, but it has given me a great confidence boost to write more! **

**oh, and if you want me to follow you back on tumblr just inbox me or whatever °˖◝(⁰▿⁰)◜˖°  
**

**(you may now move on from this and onto the story) **

**((ily guys))**

Once again, a knot of anxiety began to spin itself together in my chest. The staircase creaked under the weigh of our footsteps, and I could just feel the palms of my hands start to sweat. Above me all I could see was a faintly lit hallway leading me to my impending doom.

_Please, oh please, don't leave me alone with this kid. _

My nervousness must've shown right through because he gave me a slight smirk and whispered in my ear, "_There's nothing to be afraid of._"

I gave him a faint smile in return. He led me around the corner at the top of the stair case and led me down the corridor. We came face to face with a shut door, and I could really only make out the faint outline of Paul's face.

He grinned at me, and said, "Well, here we are." Turning the door knob...

"_What the fuck?!_"

I wave of relief went over my body. We weren't _alone. _Well, I alone with _him_, that is.

I spotted two scruffy looking boys lounging about the room, and looked around Paul's age. Actually, now that I think about it... how old was he, anyways?

"You aren't supposed to be here- look, how the fuck did you even get inside the house?", he questioned angrily.

One of them looked older then the rest, and had this light brownish hair quiffed up like Paul's and had the same play-boyish quality about him. Clearly ignoring Paul, he got up, walked towards me menacingly until my back bumped against the wall, where he raised one arm and placed his hand on the wall, close to my face. He leant closely to my face- _oh, where have I seen this before?_- and turned his head to say, softly, "_You must be the new bird Paul's brought in._" A shiver went down my spine as he came even closer, to where our lips were almost touching, and I could just smell the peppermint scent of his breath. "_I can't wait to get my hands on you.__" _As he licked his lips and I began re-evaluating my entire life, someone cleared their throat, and we turned our heads to see Paul standing their uncomfortably. _For once._

"Well, actually- the thing is, John-" _Oh, so that was what his name was. _"She's not a new bird. Elle's staying with us now. So if you don't mind..." He began using his hands to shoo him away.

"Hm." John looked at me and said, "You must be an interesting one. You know, when Paul brings home a new girl he doesn't mind sharing her with us..."

I shook my head in disgust and and shook off the bad thoughts in my head and paid attention to the other boy, sitting on the bed. He was looking down at his guitar and was strumming it quietly. He still hasn't said a word.

I could hear in the background Paul and John fighting, and began walking towards the boy, observing him discreetly. His hair was longer than the rest, and it looked like he hated getting his hair cut. It seemed as if he was fresh out of the shower, his hair not quiffed up like the rest, and had a soft quality about it. My eyes fell on his long, nimble fingers as he played a sort of soft lullaby on the guitar, when suddenly...

"What're you lookin' at?" He spoke, still looking down at the guitar.

He jerked his head up suddenly and I jumped up out of surprise.

I blushed madly when I caught sight of his face. "N-nothing, I was just-" I started fumbling with my fingers and looked down. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. _He looked me right in the eyes._

"It's alright, you know."

I looked up, and to my sudden utter disappointment, he was back to looking down at his guitar. "You just don't have to make a big fuss out of it, alright?" He said quietly.

"Okay." I said quietly in return. There was something about this boy... that _intrigued me._ But I just couldn't put a finger on it.

I returned my focus to the other two, who were bickering like there was no tomorrow.

"...what? _ARE YOU BLOODY KIDDING ME,_ the girl's _actually_ staying here? But this is our practice room!" I heard John say, placing his forearm on the top of his head, to show some exasperation.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to practice downstairs. Look, this isn't a temporary thing. My dad said he _had_ take her in, so we'll just have to make the best of it, _okay?!"_

I sighed as I heard a knock on the door.

Mr. McCartney peeked in the doorway and said, "Paul, are you done showing Elle-" He spotted the other two boys in the room. His eyebrows knitted together in frustration and confusion. "What're you two doing here? Oh- nevermind. Hello, George." Nodding his head at him with a little distaste, "John."

"EY, JAMES, ME BOY-" John bellowed whilst picking him up from the door and wrapped his arms around Mr. McCartney in a bear hug.

He squirmed a little, saying, "Uhm- well, I think its about time you two should be going. It's beginning to snow out there." He nodded his head towards the window, still stuck awkwardly in his grasp.

He was right though. We could hear the snow beginning to rain down heavily onto the roof.

Just my luck. I just HAD to come to Liverpool during snow season.

But in a way... There was something beautiful about how the clouds in the sky casted a dim shadow over the city. I just thought... it was nice.

John then released Mr. McCartney and they all made their way downstairs. John winked at me as he left, but to my disappointment, George left without saying a word. He left me with about four seconds of eye contact and a quick glance away. Thanks.

But, why would it matter to me, anyways? I'm about three million percent sure I don't like this kid. Plus, c'mon- I just met him. It doesn't mean anything. Plus, he's one of _them, _I reminded myself. I suppose the most we'll ever be is friends.

I turned around thinking the room was empty, but- of course- Paul was still there, sitting on the bed. I was really too tired for his bullshit.

I yawned fakely and overly-dramaticized. "Well, to be honest Paul, its been a long day and I'd really appreciate if you give me some privacy so I can get some rest," I yawned whilst stretching my arms over my head.

Paul's cheeky grin dropped. He suddenly turned dead serious. "Oh... then do you mind if I stay with you?" He started chuckling and grinning as I began swatting him with the pillow.

"Get. Out," I said flatly as I pointe him out the door.

Just as he was halfway out the door, "Oh by the way, well you know how my dad said to show you around town, right?"

I grunted in response.

"Great! I'll get you at about eight-" Oh yeah. It was only two in the afternoon. "And, the boys will be there, too-" He paused- I could tell he was thinking back to John. "Well, g'night... I suppose- sweet dreams, babe."

And without further ado, he then shut the door.

He left me alone in my new room, still littered with some trash, an amp, and some tangled wires scattered on the floor.

I finally had a chance to observe the room...

Which was almost nearly as dim as the hallway, only lit by one lamp that sat on a table next to a makeshift bed. The walls were pale yellow and faded, and I could see some paint touch ups- made recently, I suppose- on some parts of the walls and ceiling. There was a closet, and a small purple rug next to the bed. And lastly, next to a window draped by thick, dusty curtains, a full length mirror.

I slowly approached the mirror, with a sudden feeling of sadness. I stared blankly back at the person looking back at me, for what seemed like hours.

...I then felt a giant burst of anger build up inside of me- suddenly, I was so mad, so _angry_. I had this utter resentment for the person I saw in the mirror, such, _bitter hatredness_- _you're an ugly person. You deserve to die. You're worthless._

I looked straight into her eyes, raised a shaking fist, and slammed it against the mirror with as much force as I could.

Now I was staring at a cracked mirror, with little pieces of broken glass fallen on the floor. I was still standing there, shaking, breathing hitched. Parts of my dead, string-like orangey hair had fallen on my face and onto my shoulders.

_I know I am._

I fell onto my bed, not allowing myself to cry. I gazed at the ceiling of the room, ignoring my bleeding hand, and kept repeating in my head, _You deserve to die. Nobody wants you. You're better off dead._

Thinking quietly to myself, _Who is she, that girl? ...well, that's not who I want to be..._

I heaved a final yawn- this time, a real one- and dozed off, trying not to think of anything at all.

**what's happening?!...**

**Oh just for future reference are you guys into like...smut and stuff...idk IDK ok *raises arms in defense* Just wanna know in case for future purposes**

**B)**


	5. Happiness Is A

**A/N: I'm gonna try to make this really short so you guys can read so-**

**Again, thank you to my lovely reviewers, and simply anyone who has been following my story along (only the fifth chapter now, but hey).**

**And by the way, by any chance have any of you guys watched _Nowhere Boy_ yet? ...once again I'm late to the party (or how you call it, I don't know). It actually caught my attention today because I realized the guy who plays John (Aaron Johnson) also plays Kick Ass (which is an awesome movie btw highly recommend). **

**Ok whoops this actually turned out pretty long so just go on and read now kids**

_I suddenly jerked up from the bed- waking up from a terrible nightmare. But it wasn't an unfamiliar accquaintance- these dreams happened to appear often. _

_Wait- something wasn't right._

_I glanced around the room, and it wasn't my new room in Liverpool. Fading posters of Elvis Presley and maps of France, the Americas, China- you name it- and an old dresser and its matching wooden desk, with a bright orange turn-table placed upon it..._

_There was no doubt about it. I was back in Oxford. _

_Smiling widely at my familiar surroundings, I could barely believe it! I was back home- I decided to ignore the fact of the impossibility of going from a city hours away to where I was now with no memory of it- really, the moment I was in just felt so right- to hell with it, and I jumped up from my bed._

_I couldn't even recall what had occured last night- or earlier today- oh, no matter, I'm back home! I get to see my friends- oh boy, they'll get a kick out of what I have to say about the boys from Liverpool, oh- and I should run over to Finn's later. Poor boy, I didn't even get to say goodbye to him on the phone today- no matter, all will be explained in do time. And what will mother think? I must go and tell-_

_Then it hit me. It came to me, all so clearly right then and there._

_I stopped right in my tracks and felt my whole body turn hard as a brick- my heart dropped in my stomach, leaving an empty feeling._

_In the height of my sudden heartbreak and panic, my vision became more blurry- things became more fast paced._

_I was dressed in what seemed like my old school uniform, and at the bottom of the pocket of my pleated skirt, I could feel something- a lump- protruding out of it. Out of curiosity, I reached in, and I could feel my whole body begin to shake- it was cold- and the shape and weight of it clearly spoke for what it was- a shotgun._

_All of a sudden, I lost control of myself, I lost my own conciousness- something had taken control over my body. I wasn't aware of who I was._

_My new mind reached for the shotgun- "wait, no! What's happening?! Stop"- And then I remembered- it was the same gun. The gun that took the life of my mother. I felt the events coming back to me- I had the strongest urge to cry- but it was as if the... the 'thing' was holding me back. _

_My body felt numb- this was no dream. But... nothing was real, was it?_

_No... I was living the nightmare._

_I fought against my inner demons as it turned the door knob, or I- I had no idea anymore- of my old door, and it creaked its way downstairs. Stop! Stop! I shouted at myself inside my thoughts. Please... please don't do what I think you're going to do..._

_I went around the corner, and into the kitchen where my mother was busy washing the dishes, humming a sad, downbeat tune. _

_I could feel the walls begin to cave in. I must be in some sort of movie- everything seemed black and white._

_Then, my mother spun around, droping the plates in hand. She looked very solemn. Her eyes lost the happiness, the liveliness it once captured._

_Mu-Mum, it's me! Elle! I screamed. No sound escaped my lips. I tried to break free from what seemed like an internal cage keeping holding me back._

_"It's okay, Elle. It's only... for the best." Her voice was hoarse, but there was some desparity in it._

_No... maybe I can stop it! Please... just let me... _

_My mother walked over to me, wearing her same stained apron sprinkled with daisy prints- please, stop mum, be what I once remembered- I know you're still in there..._

_She reached for the gun in my hand- I tried to tug back with as much force I could, but it was no use. I had lost._

_The gun still shaking in my hand, she held my hand. Wait, what?_

_She moved the shotgun over her heart, and pressed it against her chest. She slid her thumb over the trigger- looking in my eyes, she mouthed three words. _

_I'm. So. Sorry._

_The next thing I knew, once again- I was standing over my mother's deceased body._

_I still could feel no feeling- but I couln't get over how this could have happened. What does this mean?... What is she trying to tell me, if this nightmare actually means something?_

_I moved in closer to my mother, and knelt in as I catched a glimpse of my- not particularly- reflection in our dirt-speckled kitchen window. _

_Obviously it wasn't me- on the outside, that is- it was... A teenage boy dressed in an ill fitted suit. It was... It was... Finn?... or was it?_

_So did... he... kill my mother?... No... it couldn't be._

_The next thing I knew, I- or he- was grinning back at my own reflectiom in the window. Not much of an evil, villainish grin... But it wasn't the friendly kind of grinning either. _

_He raised the gun to our head, and spoke to me in my head, Isn't this what you want, anyways? Now you can be with your mother, he said, snarling nastily._

_No! You're going to kill both of us-_

_The next thing I knew, my entire sight of vision was lost. Everything was pitch black._

_I was beginning to gain feeling again- most of all, shock. I could move my arms- my legs- so much so that in fact, I was shaking- what was going on? What the hell is happening now?_

_I had definitely gain control of my body... But why couldn't I see?_

_Agh!_

_A sudden shear of pain split right through my stomach, then a sudden burst of light, and I could hear yelling- screaming, more like-_

"Elle! Ellie," a familiar voice rang through my head- wait a second... "Can you hear me? I don't believe it... She's finally done it this time..."

I opened my weak eyes to see Paul looking down on me from where I still laid on the bed, clucking, and shaking his head.

"Paul, you won't believe what happened..."

**Oh my god. I bet you're all like "what the fuck is she even writing" but yeah. I hope I'm going in a good direction for this story (sorry its been pretty dark lately), but if you have anything to say, let me know!**

**But like, what do you guys even think is happening? Let me know from your oerspective. And sorry if this chapter wasn't interestimg enough or if it was... kinda cheesy I guess**

**this chapter was somewhat shorter then the last one (i tried, i swear), but I just wanted to get this one out there as quick as possible so I could put up the one where Paul takes Elle out for a night on the town (winky dink...)...poor girl though! Will Elle tell Paul what happened? What will happen tonight?! ASKFKLAKCJSKSL**

**Oh and btw you guyses I typically update around midnight (pacific time, if that's how you say it? Idk) so yeah my timing is pretty crappy but I hope you know ily all so**

**B) peace**


	6. Hair Products

**A/N: Welcome to a new chapter. **

**...and if you've watched _Moonrise Kingdom_, you might recognize a certain reference in there...**

**lil fun fact for y'all- I got the title for this story from a quote- "The sad truth is the truth is sad," by Lemony Snicket. I'm not sure if it came from one of his books, but I kinda... like it, anyhow. And he's kind of right, too...**

"Paul, you won't believe what happened..." I sighed groggily as I rubbed my eyes. "I had this dream- or this _nightmare, _more like- and..." I lifted my head from the foot of the bed- _how did I even fall asleep last night?_- and narrowed my eyes, straight into his. "_Do_ _explain why_ you're my _my_ room?"

"_Ah_, well, you know... screaming, crying out loud, the rattling of the bed..." He tilted his head to smirk, "I'd recognize those sounds anywhere."

_You little shit._

I began to get up from the bed to march him out, when a searing pain went through my right arm. _Oh._

Whilst I grasped my arm in pain, Paul continued, "So, well you know- one thing led to another, and I came in here to see what was going on, and I found you practically having a seizure on the bed, a smashed mirror, and... a mangled hand covered in dried blood. _Do explain why-_" bug off, man.

"_Look._ You just wouldn't understand, okay?" I interjected as I cradled my wounded arm. "...I, just..."

"What happened to your hand?"

"I got hit in the mirror."

"_Really? _How did _that happen?_"

"...I lost my temper at myself."

He cocked his head, concluding, "_I see." _He delicately took my arm from my own and carefully inspected it. "First off, we should _definitely _take care of this." And before I could argue, he pulled me off the bed, out of the room, and led me down the corridor and steered me into a cold and dark room.

Seconds passed before a light flickered on. My eyes scrunched together as it began to adjust to the brightness. This was probably the brightest room in the house I've seen thus far.

My vision clearing, I realized I was in a neat little bathroom.

Clearing his throat, I turned around to see him standing next to the bath tub expectantly.

Raising an eyebrow, "_Ahem,_ am I supposed to take a shower _right now?_ Because I'm pretty sure we have to, uhm... take care of this. _As you said_." I flailed my injured hand around to put more emphasis on the situation. ...I winced, "That was a bad idea."

He began to get annoyed. Paul prompted, "First, you have to take a shower _because _I'm taking you out later, remember?" _Oh yeah. That thing. _"Secondly, it'll rinse out the blood, and although it'll sting, it will help you help me make my job easier when I remove those bits of glass in your hand," he stated matter-of-factly, "Third, you're really starting to stink. When was the last time yo-"

"Alright, alright." I muttered to myself, shoving him out of the door.

"Hey, I could help you if you want- you know, rinse out your hair and-"

I slammed the door shut, locked it, and jiggled the knob just to make doubly sure it was locked shut.

"Now, let's just get this over with." I whispered to myself as I stripped out of my clothes and threw them into a pile across the floor. I moved the shower curtain across its rail, and stepped into the tub, shivering.

I scowled as I peered over an immense collection of hair products piling over the shower rack attached to the side of the wall. _How many of these do they even need?!_, I thought to myself as I shuffled through straightening and smoothing shampoos, volumizing shampoos, clarifying shampoos, and about fifty small containers that consisted of conditioners and shaving cream. _Bloody women_, I muttered. _I wonder who's are these... _I thought sarcastically to myself whilst I picked up one shampoo and conditioner out.

Turning the shower knob, I stepped back a foot or so just so I wouldn't be attacked by an instant cold rain of shower. I stook my left hand out into the water until it felt just right. Hey, timing is key, right?

I immersed myself in the water. ...it actually felt... kind of soothing. Ignoring the burning feeling in my left arm, I began to pour quantities of shampoo and conditioner into my hair, massaging them in, then rinsing them out. The rinsing out part actually took quite a while... I bent my head down so my soapy hair could get full coverage whilst washing the soap out of my long, tangled ginger hair. In the water, I could almost swear it was brown.

It gave me some time to think, _recall, if you'd like-_ of last night's events. Most of all, that... that dream I had. Was it trying to tell me something? Was, in a way- I don't know, I might just be crazy- my _mother was trying to tell me something. _Was it trying to say... I couldn't escape this fate? It was _I _who shot mother? No- that's impossible- it was _Finn_ who shot her, remember? Or just a weird, mind-controlling Finn in a business suit.

My next few minutes were filled with strange and bitter thoughts when I was suddenly awoken from my thoughts by a loud pounding on the door, ignoring the somewhat muted shouting of me to finish- no doubt Paul's.

Might as well get on with it then...

Then came the part I dreaded worst- rinsing off the blood. I carefully placed my hand under the direct fall of water, quietly screaming in my head as I bit my tongue to avoid making any sound. When it was all washed off- Paul was right, there _were_ bits of glass still there.

When I was all finished, I turned the knob off and stepped out of the shower, dripping wet from head to toe. Thankfully, there was clean towel placed on the sink- _I hope so, god dammit- _and wiped myself dry off, wrapped myself in it, then carefully stepped, barefoot, into the hallway, now even dimmer. I was probably eight or nine by now, anyways.

With limited eyesight, I carefully made my way through the hallway, and felt my way up the walls until I hit the end of it, where the door to my room was. I quickly opened the door and slammed it shut, before Paul could prance on me and do who-knows-what.

I was pleased to find my familiar matching suitcases placed by the door, probably when I was in the shower, and probably by Mike. _I would have to thank him later_, I reminded myself.

I placed the yellow one on my bed and propped it open, finding my clothes, although a bit disheveled, my own. _I might as well dress nice_, I thought, _but not **too** nice._ You can just imagine what could possibly happen with boys like Paul and John in this sort of town.

Picking out a collared purple dress with a flared out skirt that just hit the top of my knees, I decided that I should probably cover up as well- shuffling through the luggage and making quite a mess, I find a worn out, denim jacket my uncle lent me one day when I was very young, but I had forgotten to give it to him back. ...But he was probably off with my aunt, anyhow, and had plenty of money to replace it.

I put that on as well, carefully making my right arm through the sleeve as delicately as possible. When finished, I thought cluelessly to myself, _Well, isn't this the kind of 'tough' look people go like around here? I don't know..._

Avoiding looking into the mirror- _with reason, of course_- I slightly teased the top of my hair with a comb, hairsprayed it, and placed it into a ponytail. I then decided not to wear makeup.

_Okay, maybe just a bit. I should try to look a 'little' good right?...Maybe I'll even impress George..._

_Wait no. I...I don't like George, right?_

_Nevermind._

I added a tad bit of eyeliner and mascara, threw my old green flats on, and made my way out the door, with little confidence.

At the opposite end of the dark hallway, a line of light streamed through a doorway. I could hair soft music- a guitar, emitting from it. I slowly approached the door, and peeked in.

No kidding, it was Paul, alright. He crooning a lovely melody- yes, _I'll admit_- and strumming his acoustic guitar along with it as well. I probably watched him out of the crook of the door for a good five minutes when-

"_Someone's_ being a little sneaker, _isn't she_?"

_Dammit, what's wrong with these fucking guitarists?!_

Paul stopped playing abruptly and looked straight at me.

"How'd you know?" I said sheepishly as I opened the door wider and stepped inside and immersed into the light.

He seemed a bit disgruntled when he saw me. _Oh, here comes the insecurities..._

Becoming quite tired of his gawking, I stated blatantly, "_Well_, are we going or _not_? And you still have to, uh... fix my hand."

His gaped mouth soon turned into a sly smirk. Brushing the last part behind, "O-oh, yes, _definitely._"

**Okay I'll admit I'm a pretty shitty author for saying paul was gonna show elle around town by now so yeah, I apologize. BUT IN MY DEFENSE, I uploaded yesterday and I uploaded this early today (not at midnight! whoop)**

**ily guys and thanks for responding to that actually i'm definitely keeping those smut notes in mind ok**

**til then, pals**


	7. Get Your Shit Together, Darling

**A/N: ok so basically i've been reading through my story and i realize i've been making some errors here and there (for example in the last chapt i used 'hair' instead of 'hear'...send me back to preschool) and I really do apologize for my mistakes and they're just really embarassing too so I DECLARE, from now on, i'll try my best to proofread EVERYTHING before I publish.**

**oh, and I realize that the cabash coffee club wasn't opened until 1959 so, um, please work with me here ok**

"W-what are you talking about? Just hurry up and patch my hand together so we can go on your dumb fieldtrip, alright?!" I stammered nervously as he slowly licked his lips, watching me like I was his next meal.

Placing his guitar on his pillow and slowly standing up from his bed, he began to make his way towards me in the same manner of John's earlier today.

I began to laugh nervously as he began to reach for me. "_Y'know_... Elle... you look really pretty tonight... we could stay here, if y'don't mind... We could have some fun... the old man's probably asleep by now..." he slurred, playfully twisting my ponytail.

_Fuck_.

I stook my hand out and placed it on his chest, to put some distance in between us. "_No, stop_," I said firmly, "_Get your shit together, Paul_."

That _really_ did it.

He frowned slightly and sighed. "Whatever, _killjoy_," he muttered under his breath as he turned around to clear the bed. "Sit here," I followed as he dictated.

"Great," he continued, still looking disappointed. "...Now, where did I...heck, let's just use this." He fumbled through the drawers of his desk exploding with crumpled paperwork until he found a pair of small scissors, fit for a small child.

I joked a little, just so he could be put in good spirits again. "_Aw_, baby Paul isn't ready for big-boy scissors yet? _Well isn't that just adorable._"

He didn't respond, and looked even more smug than ever. He knelt down below me next to the bed, motioned for me to show him my hand, rolled up my sleeve carefully, and began his work.

Tears stung my eyes as he began pulling out bits and pieces of once was a mirror out of my hand. I winced painfully as he began pulling them out more quickly and with more force, causing my blood to spill again.

"Hey- ow- you don't have to hurry with this, you know- ouch- watch it- _god dammit_- PAUL," I yelled, hoping he would stop the excruciating pain.

"There, finished." He stated flatly as he dropped the blood covered scissors back onto his desk and rushed out of the room.

_Oh great, did I really hurt his feelings that badly? Well he was the one who came onto me first, so..._

He came back into the room with some kind of gauzy, translucent medical cloth and quickly wrapped it around the palm of my hand and around my thumb, all the way until stopping midpoint at my wrist.

We both sat in mutual silence as he tied the two ends together, then added some- I don't know, some healing...sealing...powder?- on top, which was the kicker that _really_ made it stung.

And with that finished, he sighed, "Well there you have it."

After a few more moments of silence, I quipped up, "Aw, don't beat yourself up, Paul." I got up, pulled my sleeve over my large bandage, and awkwardly hugged him and patted his cold, stiff, leathery jacket on the back. Hey, as long as he wasn't acting so '_suave_' anymore, I'd be cool about it. "_C'mon_ man, let's go!" I linked my arm in his, and I could see him raise his eyebrow just a little in surprise.

His smile widening, "_Well_, there's no time to lose-" and tugged my out the room, down the stairs- so quickly I almost tripped, even as I was wearing my flats- and out the front doorstep, into the cool, frosty air.

"Aren't we lucky, it stopped snowing, just in the nick of time, _eh_?" he murmured into my ear, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we strolled down the streets.

And to be honest- I really tried to enjoy his kind gestures, but- it just _didn't feel right_. I know he tried to change his act, but... I've already seen to much of him to change my opinion of him.

He walked me through every nook, crook, and cranny of the whole of Liverpool- and _I'll admit_, nearly every single bit was breathtaking or interesting in someway.

Seeing the docks at night and watching the large cargo ships pass by- the local shops, passed his old schools and the museums, these great, big, architectural buildings reminiscent of centuries before, and a park glistening with snow under the street lights- the candy parlour, and almost everything in between. As the city began to shut down for the night, Paul chirped cheerfully, "There's this one last place I want to show you- trust me, _you're gonna love it_- and the boys will be there, too," he grinned.

We continued to walk shoulder to shoulder, when I queried him, "Paul, what d'you want to be when you grow up- or well, get older, out of college?"

Surprised by my sudden question- the entire time I was never the one who started the conversation- he said, "Oh- well, when I was a bit younger, I thought I wanted to be an actor. Y'know, all the bright lights... the fame... the fortune... the girls..." he winked at me, as usual. "But I then realized acting... really wasn't for me. I don't think I have the qualities that'd make a good one. For example, I don't have the great, big, personality others do"-I dared to contradict, but kept my mouth shut- "...and, I don't know, I found something else I enjoyed more- that made me immensely happy even when I wasn't feeling it- _music_."

I smiled softly hearing him talk so passionately about his love of music. I thought about talking to him about the dream I had last night, but decided to put in on hold for some other time.

His eyes shined brightly as he talked about how he got his first guitar, and all these great musicians he looked up to.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he said, "Did you know I was in a band?"

I raised my eyebrow at him, just to give him some sort of show even though I had already put the pieces together already- "Oh, _really_?"

He nodded his head excitedly like a small child. "Yeh. We have a whole thing going on- John, George, and I. _We're the Quarrymen_."

He grinned from ear to ear. "Although, we're still lookin' for a new drummer..._ah_, well."

"That's nice. Maybe I can hear you guys play sometime, eh?" I grinned in response.

"Ah, yes- in due time. And in _due time... I mean...now_!" He said as we turned a corner down the road and approached a small building, exploding with light spewing out the windows, people chittering and chattering, and music being played out of loud speakers.

Beginning to get excited, "What is this place, may I ask?"

Sliding his hands up the sides of his hair, "Well, darling- this is the Cabash."

**OH MY GOD?! TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY?!**

**im fucking literally spewing out chapters out of my fingers what is even happening here**


	8. He Likes You

**A/N: sorry this chappy (_did I really just use that word_) is late guys (well I guess by the standards I set for myself, hm)... I'm typically busier on weekends, so please bear with me.. **

**I'll also have some questions for yall in the next chapter so keep your eyes out for that...**

With butterflies fluttering rapidly in my stomach- the good kind, I think- we approached the entrance to the small coffee shop, which was filled with rock 'n roll to the max, which was what _really _excited me.

The painted green door was left slightly ajar, and peeking through the door I could see the first floor of the small building filled corner to corner with teenagers, almost all who looked intimidating or had a unfamiliar, different look from the kids I knew back home.

I gulped as Paul chimed in, "Ready?"

Looking up at him nervously, I began, "Well..."

Without turning back to me to see my response, he pushed the door wide open, attracting the attention of random people here and there, mostly disgruntled by the fact of a sudden gust of cool air blowing through the small- well appearing that way with so many people- room.

...and that's when I spotted a familiar bunch of boys.

Standing up from the overflowing seating area and screaming at the top of his lungs over the music, "EY! YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS O'ER THERE!"

God dammit John.

He continually waved his arms in the air and screamed obscure things until Paul and I made our way around- and bumping into- people and furniture here and there.

"We're not 'lovebirds', you fucking twat," I muttered, annoyed.

Holding his arms out in defense playfully then leaning into my ear to say, "Didn't seem like it. ...oh, and if you two are gonna be y'ano... doing anything later... I wouldn't mind getting an invitation of some sort," John winked, hopefully just to humour me.

I rolled my eyes in disgust and began to move over to the oposite side of the couch when I spotted a certain- a- a certain boy from earlier...

My mind began having a panic as I felt the heat reach to my cheeks, obviously making my face flush red. I began to have hyperventilations to cool myself off before George could spot me as well, when-

"Hey, Elle-" Paul clasped a firm hand on my shoulder to catch my attention- out of the corner of my eye, I could see John now chatting up a pair of blondes over near the stage area- "I'm gonna go get a drink, want me to get you something?"

I was still wandering around in my mind putting myself together for George when I hurriedly answered, "Yes- yeah, sure- whatever- anything's fine, really- now if you don't mind," I was swatting Paul away when I began mentally going over what I was going to say to him.

Hello, George! How are you today? I know we didn't really get off on the right foot earlier today, but-

No, maybe I should act a little more... subdued. Mysterious. Is that what the boys go for around here?

Hello... the name's Elle... Haven't seen you in town before... mind if I... NO. Scratch that-

"Okay, okay," Paul grinned cheekily. "I'll go now... But make sure you don't run away... we all know how that turns out-" Oh, Paul, I'm not exactly planning to- " ...and I really want you to watch us perform so... please? Maybe I'll even give you a little reward, later..."

I groaned as he turned around, bursting out laughing as he did. That little bugger, I'd get him one day. I just don't know when.

With no other intrusions in sight, I fixed the front of my dress, smoothing out the small creases here and there. Finally straightening the collar of denim jacket and fluffing my ponytail just a bit, I mustered up as much courage as I could, and made my way towards the empty space next to George.

"Yeah, well, it was nice to talk to you, we'll definitely keep in touch-" he was finishing off a conversation with a lean, slick looking boy nearly as attractive as himself- "Try to call us back sometime this week, alright? I'd really like to show you to the others. Make sure to bring your-"

"Mm, I'll make sure of it." Sadly, he had a girl already with him. "C'mon, Astrid," wrapping his arms around a pretty girl with short hair like Paul had done ro me before- but with more, in a way- genuinity- "Bye, George."

"See ya, Stuart." George gave a small wave to them as they made their way out the building. I smiled a little, not seeing a pair so in love like them before. Maybe I'd like that kind of love somewhere in the future. But I wasn't so sure if that would exist for someone like me.

I cleared my throat as I stood awkwardly above a seated George.

He instantly looked up, obviously surprised to see that I was there.

"O-oh, uhm- hello, Emma- uh, no, I meant, Elle-" He seemed a bit distraught as he motioned for me to sit. "Why don't you take a seat?," he said, giving me a side-ways grin.

Was him being suddenly so nervous around me a good thing?- probably not. But why wasn't he like this before?

I smiled at him as I said, "Well, I have to apologize on my part before for spying on you playing the guitar." I added quickly before it got awkward, "You're really quite lovely at playing it. Maybe you could teach me some time?"

His cheeks redened as he spilled, "Of course! And- Well, you know, I'm not 'that' great it. It took me years of practice just to get to where I am today!"

His soft brown hair bouncing lightly under the dim lights, I slid even closer to him on the leather-like couch. Straightening his back a little after seeing my gesture, he asked, trying to be as casual as possible, "Uhm- well- how's it going with Paul?," with a little sadness in his voice, "I heard he likes you. Lots. He went over to my house for a bit after me and John left your guys' house earlier."

Really, Paul? Right after I fell asleep? Whatever- I don't even have any feelings for you, anyways. And nothing could change that.

He croaked nervously, "...so, you like 'im too?"

I laughed, loudly- to show some emphasis, "O-oh, no no no no, DEAR GOD, no," I said through choked laughs, "We're just friends. I think."

George gave me a small smirk after gaining some newfound confidence.

I began to feel myself melt under the heatness- the closeness- of being right next to him, shoulders touching, knees touching.

Leaning in close to him and gazing into his eyes, as if we were the only two in the entire room, I spoke softly, "Well... there may just be something else I've got my eye-"

"EY, GUYS..." Paul came up from behind the couch and clasped our shoulders, clearing ignoring the fact of what was happening between us. "I THINK IT'S TIME WE GET ON STAGE TO PERFORM..." He slurred on, "MISS ELLIE, HERE'S YOUR DRINK-" he hiccupped, "WELL, GOTTA GO, MATES-" He tossed me a glass of some sort of frothy beverage and swayed away when he spotted a volumptious brunette sitting alone at the opposite side of the room.

Good luck to her, I thought.

Without thinking, I began taking big sips of the drink- it was actually pretty good- as I asked hesitantly, "Well, about your performance... ?"

Swatting his hand, "Oh yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it. We usually end up on stage eventually. Just give him some time."

We turned our heads around quickly as we heard a loud tapping of the mic.

"...AND I'D LIKE TO DEDICATE THIS SONG TO THAT..." Paul pointed my direction as heads turned to look at me. "T-THAT GIRL R-RIGHT OVER THERE."

He began strumming nonsense on his guitar.

Boos arose from the crowd as George stated flatly, "Well, I should probably get him off stage. Fucking Paul, he really did it this time." Muttering under his breath as he left, "Right when I got my chance..."

**Ooh whats gonna happen?! Are you guys digging the whole elle and george thing?..**

**Sorry if i made any errors or if it wasnt interesting enough like i literally wrote the whole thing on my phone in two hours just so i could get this out to you guys so**

**OH AND BY THE WAY... NEWS YOU'VE BEEN ALL WAITING FOR...**

**There'll be smut in the next chapter **

**(but minor though ok im savin the goods for later on)**

**B) later,**


	9. You're so Naive

**A/N: hey pals, guess what? another chapter! AND ITS THE LONGEST ONE TOO! 2.5k words...so proud of myself... (faint hisses in the background)**

**well this wasn't the question i was planning to ask you guys but (in fact it was something entirely off subject)-**

**who do you think I'm going to/want me to put together?**

**pauuul? georgge? johnn? heck, even stu- whose birthday should've been yesterday, but- hbd, man... :(**

**(ps. im kinda pissed this website won't let me use multiple question marks at a time i mean like that shit's jank)**

******so on with it then**

"ELLE," he strummed, "YOU LOOK SO SWEET, WANNA EAT YOU LIKE A-"

"_God dammit, Paul_!" George stormed onstage and tugged Paul off by his collar, making him clumsily drop his acoustic guitar, making a loud echo throughout the room.

"BuT ME GUItaR..." There's no doubt about it. He's flat out drunk... or _drugged_, perhaps.

...now what about that drink he gave me? _No... I swear... or so help me I will..._

I dropped my now empty glass as a sputtered, "_No_, dammit, _it's happening_..." My mind began to fog up as my distance between objects were nearing and farthing with each step I took as struggled to get up.

_Now_... to give 'im... a piece of my mind...

Just as I was about to get to them, I had a painful and sick feeling in my stomach, and I knew it was coming. As soon as I felt it coming up, I hurriedly turned a corner and ran towards the bathrooms, knocking over some people.

_That fucking twat_, I thought, as I burst through the swinging doors, crashed past the pair of blondes from earlier- receiving some annoyed jeers- and into an empty bathroom stall. I pulled up my ponytail higher on my head as I knelt down- _regretfully_- on the dirt-covered bathroom floor. I grasped the edges of the seat for dear life as I began to... throw up.

_What was even in that drink?!_ I've never even drunken alcohol- if it was- at this capacity before... sure, only sips here and there over the holidays, but... it was _probably_ far too strong for my stomach.

Even once coughing the rest of it up, I could feel the effect the drink had taken upon me. I straggled out of the bathroom stall and quickly splashed some water onto my face in an attempt to make me presentable. Unable to clearly see my reflection, I stupidly barreled out of the restroom, and spotted Paul talking to George and John. I stomped over to them aimlessly, tapped him on the shoulder, and as he turned, smirking, "WELL LOOK 'o iT is-"

Without much thought, I punched him square in the face.

"Ey, let me explain first," John said between muffled laughs. George pulled Paul back, who was wincing as he clutched his face, although I could see no damage done to him. ...but why was _George_ helping him, anyways?, I thought, repulsed. "Look, Paul spiked your drink earlier-"

And before I knew it, I leaped for Paul, and screamt, "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" as I tackled him down. "I- can't- believe- you- tried- to- make- me- drunk- just- so- you- could- get- your- way- with- me- god- dammit-" I slurred in between weak punches.

"Well...I thought... you... just might've...done it... if you... got'a small... push, _y'ano_?" He croaked under the pressure of the entirety of my body on his chest.

He looked quite in pain as I realized I was pinning him down forcefully with my knees. I dug them in deeper into his chest as he lay there, looking rather sick and helpless. Great, just what I wanted...

As I began to slip off his chest, my skirt raised up quite a bit as my legs slightly spread apart, giving Paul the chance to take a peek 'down there' and give me a sly smirk.

_Oh, for once, could you give it a rest?_... On the second hand, I'm really enjoying this attention...

I snapped myself out of my drunken state of mind, noticed this immediately and snapped my legs together as I struggled to get off him. "I don't know how to say this, Paul, but..._ fuck you_." I stated flatly as George lifted me off Paul, still lying right in the middle of the Cabash, admist the crowd forming around us.

I straightened myself a little, still feeling a bit drunk and out-of-state, thanks to Paul, I reminded myself.

George turned to face me, grabbing my attention. He really look so handsome, under all the lights... _I couldn't wait until the day I could really get my hands on him..._

"Uhm, well Elle- John and I discussed this before, and we both- well particularly me, actually- and well.. you shouldn't go home with Paul. It's_ far_ too dangerous..." We both turned our heads to see Paul, still laying on the floor, singing off-key to 'Hound Dog'.

"...you AIn'T noTHin' but A HOund doG... crYIN' aLL tHE tIME... ey Ellie, when're we goin' back home?" Paul crooned, cocking his head at the lights that were strung above us.

We looked back to each other, in mutual disgust. "As I was _saying_," George continued, "I really think it would be best if you didn't go home with him, alone, or at all. And especially in the state _he's_ in... the state _you're_ in..."

I nodded as though I was understanding what he was saying, "SO... erm, what'RE yeh tryin' to say?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly as he said, "Well... I'm taking you home with me," he said, cheeks reddening, "b-but don't worry, you'll be well taken care of. I swear I won't try anything..."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind it at all, by the looks of it..." John interjected, leaning in. "And poor Paulie..." He said, clucking his tongue as he shook his head. "He might've gone his way if he didn't take a drink as well. He should've tried my method. Drunken only the bird, then take her back to your place," he added.

Ignoring John, I quickly replied, "Of course... _it is only for the best.._." I said sheepishly as I ran over all the kind of things I could do to George when we were alone...

"NOW WAIT A BLOODY SECOND," Paul sputtered out as he suddenly sat up on his elbows, "You're really goin' home with that bloke?" He turned to me, not realizing he was talking about George.

"_Why yes I am_," I spat back as I linked my arm in George's, "See you whenever, Paul."

I _did_ feel a _bit_ sorry for him as I saw his face turn into utter disappointment, reading sadness and rejection. Well, better luck next time boy, I thought as I turned my heel around, leading George out of the club.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see John help Paul get up, tugging one of his arms around of his shoulder, then pratically drag him around seeming as he couldn't walk on his own two foot any more. "C'mon- let's get ya back home."

"We should leave..." I slurred quietly to George.

He nodded slightly in response, then grabbed me gently by the left arm, and we ran off onto the frosty streets of Liverpool, like two runaway lovers seeking for some peace from the world.

After running and turning around corners, George panted, "I think we'll be alright now." We leant against the side of a brick building, in some sort of alley.

Suddenly realizing we were alone together, George rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he suggested, "Well, we should get goin' now..."

"Uhm, George..." I said between straggled breaths, "D'you mind my asking... why d'you always get so nervous around me?"

Startled by my question, he stuttered, "O-oh... erm, well the thing is, Elle..." He smirked as he gently pressed me against the wall, and I thought, Well, I guess he finally figured out the affect he had on me. Not that I minded... "I think you're really pretty, that's all..." He breathed, leaning close to my lips as he tugged on the collar of my jacket.

I swore, I could've kissed him straight on the lips, right then and there. Everything seemed so perfect- so picturesque- but...

I pushed him away as gently as I could as I said with much regret, "As much as I like this..." I whispered, looking down at my feet. "I'd really like to share a moment like this with you, but not right now... after what happened..."

Looking up at his face, I could see he was a bit crestfallen. "It's alright."

I felt a water drop land on the top on my head, as I looked up into the sky as thousands of tiny little droplets of water fell down on us.

We ran to his house, but this time instead of holding my hand like before, he dug his hands deep into his pockets, looking very regretful and embarassed.

I began to think of how stupid I was- how could I say no to him?! Stupid, stupid, stupid. I really had to make it up him...

As we approached the house, he leant in and whispered to me, "We're gonna climb up that tree, and into my bedroom window over there-" he pointed to a dark window on the right side of the building- "Try to be as quiet as possible- my parents think I'm asleep by now."

I nodded in agreement as we made our way to the tree. I stared up the soaking wet tree, then to George with unsureness. Maybe any other day I could've climbed the tree in an instant, sure- but I was far too- well, y'know...

"Why don't you climb on my back?," he suggested quietly.

He quickly hoisted me onto his back, and I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as possible as he carefully made his way up the tree. Climbing about midpoint, he stopped at a certain branch- thicker and stronger than the others, crawled over it, and to the dark window. I peeked into the window, and from what I could make out, a somewhat messy yet kept-together room.

George unlatched the window as slowly and quietly as he could, and we held our breaths as it swung open with a loud creaking sound. As soon as that passed, we- or should I say, he- crawled in through the window and as soon as he put me down, he shut the window, and made his way over to his light switch.

"Wait-" I whispered, stopping him. What was I doing?!

I slowly sauntered my way over to him, until his back was pressed against the wall- for once, I was the one doing it. I don't know why, but this time, I wanted to be the one in control.

"Elle- you don't have to do this-"

I pressed my lips against his hurriedly, and I could feel him ease at his touch. He began responding to my lips, as he moved in time with mine. I enjoyed the heatness of our bodies pressed so close to each other- he licked the edge of lips, begging for entrance.

It felt so weird having our tongues moving against each other- but I loved it. We began kissing each other passionately between escaped breaths for air, and somewhere in between that, I had thrown my jacket and shoes off.

I reached for his face with a shaking hand and began running my fingers through his hair as I pulled him even closer into me. The next thing I knew, I could feel him prop my right leg over his left knee...

My face heated as his hand went under my dress, and higher and higher up my leg... till it landed right where it intended to be. He began to rub his index finger over my underwear, and my breathing became more and more hitched. I could feel his finger slip into my-

I pushed him away as quickly as possible, knowing I had gone too far.

I have to distract him, I thought. Before he would say anything...

Running to the bed- oh right, like running to his bed would solve anything!- I tossed my hair out of my ponytail and let my hair bounce around me.

In the dim light only supported by the street lamps from outside, I could see George approach me.

"George..." I mumbled, "I want... I want to show you something..."

And in one gutsy move, I slowly began unbottoning the front of my dress. He raised a hand to stop me, but I interjected quietly, "No... please, George."

He sighed, "But you don't know what's the best of for you... You're... You're... under the influence..."

Well, that didn't stop you from doing what you did before...

"No." I finished unbottoning the entirety of my dress and flipped it over my head, leaving me sitting there, on George's bed, stark naked with the exception of my underclothes.

I felt a bit uncomfortable as I could feel his eye's on me, watching my every move. Facing directly towards him, I reached for the clasp on my back.

Here goes nothing, I thought, as I threw it off, making it land in some other place of his room. Moving in closer to him, seeing his eyes widen a bit. "_E-Elle..._" he began, stuttering.

I didn't know whether to be pleased with myself, or to be disgusted by him... or me.

"Here," Oh, when will I even stop myself? I grabbed both of his hands in my own and pressed them against my breasts. I could feel my entire body melt under his touch. Still feeling a bit intoxicated, I slurred, "I think they'll grow more..."

I began to feel a bit drowsy- I slowly fell onto George's pillow, out of his touch, and muttered tiredly, "I... I think I'll go to sleep now, George. How'bout you?"

"Yeah... I think so."

And the last thing I remembered seeing was George smiling to himself, and pulling the bedsheets over us.

**oh. my. god. **

**"_OH NO SHE DIDN'T"_ a girl screams behind her computer screen, storming out in frustration**

**im pretty sure this isnt legit smut but lets just assume elle is being a horny and hormonal teenager rn so yeah**

**ily**

**oh and heads up its probs gonna get darker again in the next chapter**


	10. She Came in Through the Bedroom Window

**A/N: Okay, so four apologies are in order:**

**1. late chapter**

**2. relatively shorter**

**3. no darkness really in this chapter- but in the next**

**4. to anyone annoyed that I'm making paul... the way I'm making him as. **

**_it's the way i'm portraying his character...?_  
**

**SO lately i've had to begin taking this geometry class (thanks to my mother) during the summer, and THEY'VE BEEN GIVIN ME LOADS OF HOMEWORK, so i apologize if/and when my updates are inconsistent.**

**ALSO I reread the last chapter and I'm just embarassed by the smut I wrote UGHHH I'll try harder next time I promise**

**~thank you for reading this, if you did**

"Georgie, it's time to get up now-"

I heard a petrified scream and a slam of a door as I jerked straight up out of the bed, alarmed. _Wait a second_... _this isn't my own bed..._

_Why am I suddenly always waking up in the wrong room?_

In the midst of my confusion, I looked up at the window, now spreading a soft glow over the room... _George's room... _I looked down at my body, and- _wait, where'd my clothes go?! _I mentally smacked myself in the head as bits and pieces of last night's events came to me. _I couldn't have... I barely even know him..._

Nonchalantly turning my head, I saw him laying peacefully still- fully clothed, I might add- as he began to stir, "Good morning, Elle... had a nice sleep?" He said tiredly as he stretched his arms over his head, slowly peeking one eye open.

I screamed quietly at him, "DON'T LOOK AT ME- C-COVER YOUR EYES!," as I threw my- or his- pillow at his face and I pulled the sheet covers over me._  
_

"Relax-"

We both froze as we heard a loud knocking on the door.

"_GEORGE! DO YOU HAVE A GIRL IN YOUR ROOM?!" _I heard a loud male voice- probably belonging to his father- bark through the door.

"Y-you're f-far too y-young!" The voice from earlier, also probably belonging to his mother, wailed loudly.

I rolled my eyes, thinking, _Well technically, we really didn't do anything, actually... now that I think about it..._ I slowly got off the bed, tugging the blanket along with me, leaving him lying on his bed awkwardly open with a pillow thrown over his face. I chuckled quietly to myself with this image in my head as quickly looked for my clothes.

_How did this even get here?!_ I shouted at myself as I found my undergarment strewn messily under a dust covered bookshelf, seeming as nothing had touched it in a while... the bookshelf, that is. Finding articles of my clothing here and there, I began to panic as I heard his mother say, "Oh, I can't go in- I don't want to even lay my eyes on that- that _whore_-" I cringed at the word- "Do something about this!"

Ask his parents continued bickering, I slyly made my way to the door whilst I awkwardly tugged my bra over my chest and clasped it, knowing George was in the room- and I could tell a pillow wouldn't stop him from looking. I casually locked the door, and with a sharp 'click', I heard him laugh from behind my back, "Yeah, you really solved everything, haven't you?"

"Well you really think you know everything, don't you-" I began to shoot back when I heard it.

"_HOW DARE YOU?! YOU ARE A POOR EXCUSE FOR A SON, GOD DAMMIT! NOW UNLOCK THIS DOOR AND APOLOGIZE FOR THIS RUKUS YOU'VE CAUSED THIS INSTANT! AND AS FOR THAT._.." His parents began to shout through the door as they pounded and banged on the door loudly, making the room begin to shake.

I cautiously backed away from the door, and quickly flipped my dress over my head, fumbling with the buttons and missing a few here and there out of my sudden rush.

"Look, I don't care if you're clothed or not, I'm getting up-"

"_Shut._ _Up!_" I hissed at him as I threw my denim jacket over my head as he made his way off the bed and over to me. Finding my flats against the back wall of the window, I hurriedly threw those on as I could feel the door begin to break open... if that was possible...

"Elle..." He whispered quietly as he came up close to me... He had this soft, rugged look early in the morning... god, _he's so handsome..._ I began to blush, remembering what I had done last night.

Maybe he forgot- hell, of course not, who would? I probably just made one big fool of myself-

"I got to go, alright?" I replied quickly, unlatching the window open and putting my first foot forward out of it without a thought.

I heard him begin to mumble something, but I was already making my way down the tree. Feeling my whole body heat up, I began to feel more than just that- regrets, embarassment- the entire walk to the McCartney's home was awkward and also quite lost- I'm still new, alright.

As I approached my new home, I began to knock on the door until I realized the door was unlocked- hm, I guess _Paul_ forgot to lock the door last night. I could hear people talking in the next room, and followed my ear to the kitchen where Mr. McCartney and Mike- no Paul to be found- were having breakfast.

I quickly back myself against the wall of the opposite room before I entered through the open doorway. I didn't want to cause a commotion, and I really didn't want any questions thrown at me or any answers demanded- I just wanted to go back to my room, and just get some rest, that's all.

Quietly making my way up the stairs, I could see my door was left slightly ajar. Slipping my way through the door, I found Paul sitting on bed, with an unreadable expression etched upon his face.

"_Um, Paul-_"

And before I could even finish my sentence, he jumped off the bed, and struck me hard, right across the face.

**what.**

**And I don't know if you feel this way guys, idk I feel like lately my story has been going down a downwards spiral... I feel that the quality of my story isn't as good as it's supposed to be... **

**if you have any feedback (especially constructive criticism, YES CRITICISM IS GOOD), leave one for me so I could possibly improve the reading experience for everybody! *throws glitter in air***

**B)**


	11. She's Not A Girl Who Misses Much

**__A/N: another quick 'chappy' (I guess you guys like this word now, huh) for you guys!**

**warning: may be a little disturbing for some people :))**

_I was in the living room, doodling obscure things in my colouring book, as it was like any other Tuesday evening. ...and that's when I heard it- a loud commotion- shouting, even- in the next room._

_I screamed loudly as I entered the kitchen, seeing my father's hand sweep cross my mother's face, leaving a strange red imprint on her right cheek as blood began to pour from her nose._

_"Mum!" I rushed to her side with a towel as I held her, in my feeble attempts to protect her._

_"You and that fuckin' kid are goin' no where, you hear me?" _

_Although I didn't quiet understand what he was saying, I shook at his words. Why wasn't my mother doing anything to him?! Say something, please!_

_"...and don't you ever talk back to me like you did before, alright?" ...I wondered what mum said before that made him so angry. "Now fix me dinner and get that fucking kid out of here!" he spat. _

_I was so confused at the time... I've never seen my father like this before... He wasn't a very... 'warm' person, if that's how you say it. But never have I seen him like this. Was he always attacking her behind my back?_

_"Did you hear me?!" _

_We shook as he approached us even closer, and my mother pulled me in tighter. I could even sense the fear she was having._

_"J-just go, Wilson..." she croaked, barely audible._

_"What did you say?" I could hear the anger building up in his voice. Oh, please don't hit her again, please..._

_"Just leave!" My mother bursted out, crying._

_I could hear him chuckle under his breath. "...well, there you have it." He laughed even louder as he backed out of the room, "Well, you two are fucked. Have a nice life without me, then," and ran out._

_I remember going out the front porch and watching my father get into his same little dusty black motorcycle and drive off, never to be seen again._

I collapsed to the floor on his first hit, caressing a stinging cheek. "What are you even-" I sputtered out as I struggled my way off the floor.

"You- are- so- fucking-" he shouted in between harsh punches against my body, "-_worthless."_

My entire body sank at his word. Well, he's done it this time... he broke me. I stood there silently as I touch all his hits and mean comments, crying out in my head, _So, this is going to be the rest of my years, huh?_

I looked up as I felt him stop his throws, "...and no one... could ever love you." He looked me dead in the eye, pushed my shoulders back, and waltzed out of the room as if nothing ever happened.

Crying silently to myself, I shuffled quietly to the door, and gently shut it. That's when I began having a breakdown- _He's right. You're worthless. _

I quietly turned back to that familiar mirror, and stared at my cracked reflection. _Ugly, nothing but ugly... _I felt my lost of control in myself as I shoved the mirror off the wall, and onto the floor, causing a thunderous crash.

I kept spitting comments towards myself as I staggered over to my suitcases, still propped open from last night. In my sudden urgency and panic, I began throwing all my items out, left and right, looking for that one specific- and there it was... a small utility knife. _I__ didn't know I was going to do this... falling back into my bad habits... I don't need this... _

I pushed those thoughts out of my head as I shot back angrily at myself, "No, you knew this was going to happen, coming here!" I cried, shutting my windows tight and draping the thick curtains over it. Throwing my suitcases off the bed with little thought, I then crouched on my sheets in desparity as I held the knife with a shaking hand.

_Here goes nothing._

There's this thing about making that first cut- you swear you'll only make a few marks, then you'd be able to reason with yourself... and stop yourself.

But the thing is... you won't.

You'll begin to get addicted to this sort of pain- and with every single slice to your skin, you'll be wanting more, quite frankly.

It's quite sad, really- how one can find pleasure in the hand of a knife.

...and the whole time you'll be craving the blood that falls, the pain you give yourself- and the best part is, you know you deserve all of it.


	12. giveitawaygiveitawaygiveitaway now

**A/N: OKAY SO the title of this chapter is just a joke ok guys im just havin a real great time jamming out to red hot chili peppers rn as im writing this, so just go along with this for your _dear _author (erm..)**

**so yea, this is another quick chapter for you guys! **

**I have a lot of hw now (in the summer too, dammit), so yeah im trying to finish it and... I get reviews telling me to update and so I got distracted and ended up spending like two hours finishing this :)))**

***swats hand dramatically* oh, you guys are so demanding! **

**SO moral of this story is leave me reviews that'll get me excited and make me ignore my hw until last minute **

****not that i mind**

**ily guys**

I gazed silently at the ceiling, for what seemed like hours on end. I laid limp like a dead, lifeless body, sprawled out on my bed- and in reality, I wasn't that much different- or at least I thought that way. I felt as if my life was wasting itself away by each passing, _tick!_ing second on the clock, hung on the cracked wall.

I hated feeling so helpless- I could still feel my dried tears on my face, and all this time I kept going on over in my mind all the things Paul had said to me prior... and each time as I repeated them in my head, over and over again- I would remember it just as he had said it. And with each word I recalled, I could feel my body taking a strong punch, and I couldn't stop myself, and I personally couldn't help feeling that everything he said was _all too true._

Thinking quietly to myself for quite a bit, I sighed as my eyes finally fell upon my left arm. I winced as I saw it- from the midpoint of my arm trailing down to my wrist, small, deep cuts- messy, ugly lines scrawled over skin- a sight oh to familiar to myself. The entire time I laid there, I refused to look at what I'd done to myself. I remember it just like it was yesterday- those days back in Oxford where's I just come home, crying in frustration- and the first thing I'd do would be to grab a switchblade, lock myself in the bathroom, and cry until I had nothing left. And there wasn't much left in the first place, anyways.

It's _quite_ stupid, I know- and I probably could've done something else to make myself better. But there's something entirely different about this kind of pain- it's self inflicted by the person who knows they need it the most.

I winced as I lifted my arm over my face to inspect it. The dried blood clinging to the open wounds lined on my arm had made my skin sting, making me feel even weaker then I already was. _Great, now I have two wounded arms. _I repeated this in my head, annoying myself by reminding me of how right it was, and how awful _I_ was.

Well, I might as well... go outside. I need to get out of this house, desperately.

I rolled myself out of bed, and fell clumsily on my own two feet. My whole body had a horrible, aching feeling- yet so numb at the same time... Quickly spotting my utility knife from earlier, I hurriedly stashed it under my pillow- an old trick I remembered using ...back then...

I gently rolled my sleeve over the feel of my burning, stinging skin- I didn't bother washing the blood off...I actually quite enjoyed the sight of seeing it there, actually.

_...did I really miss this... 'this' much?_

I shuffled out the door quietly like a souless and empty body, making my way down the stairs. Reaching the floor, a huge wave of relief came to me, realizing that Paul... wasn't there.

Nobody was there, in fact. How... strange. _Maybe they realized how terrible of a person I am and rushed out the second they found out, _I joked to myself, making my way out the door and shutting it behind me, not caring whether or not if it was locked. _Hey, how more awful can a person get?_

I kept laughing to myself, like some crazed maniac living on the streets- and I probably looked likewise, as well- my clothes seemed stained and wrinkled, and I sighed as I touched the top of my hair, feeling more like some sort of tangled cobweb then what I usually kept it to be.

Walking down the empty, rainy streets of Liverpool was actually quite relaxing for me- it was as if the entire city emptied out just for myself. I strolled in the company of myself for what seemed like an hour, with my hands stuffed tightly into the appearingly small yet roomy pockets of my uncle's used denim's jacket. Over the course of my enjoyed time alone, I talked to myself from little to almost everything... I felt so at peace until-

"_Someone's finally gone loony, hasn't she?_" _  
_

Annoyed, I turned around to find- to my disappointment- of all people, John.

_...where did he even come from?_

"What do you want." I said glumly, as if it were a fact... a statement.

He sucked in his teeth, saying, "Oo... looks like someone got caught in some trouble, haven't they?" He said, eyeing my face in the weirdest manner, ever, possibly. At least he wasn't ...'going on after' me like he had did yesterday. With good reason too, probably.

Peering awkwardly at my face like I was some sort of zoo exhibit, he continued, "Ey... it looks like you were smacked right in the forehead with a bus-" Thanks, I needed that- "Now tell 'ol Johnny what happened..." He crooned, clucking his tongue.

"I... I don't feel comfortable talking about this..." I said quietly, shuffling my feet.

"Now, how about this," he said, wrapping an arm around me in one grand gesture, "I take you inside that café over there-" he pointed at the small building sitting directly across the street- "Warm yeh up, and we'll talk, alright?"

I narrowed my eyes at his strange- 'friendly', most importantly, what it seemed like- gestures towards me. "Or are you sure you just want to corner me into a bathroom stall and-"

He cut me off by laughing loudly, pulled me into his grip tighter, and walked me across the street, somehow making me feel all the more hopeless.

**Oh and im so glad you guys are pro angst in terms of my story and supportive of me making paul lool like a dipshit like wow you guys are rad**

**B)**


	13. Don't Fucking Bother Me

**A/N: once again thanks for all the reviews! you guys are just great**

**OH AND lucky chapter 13! °˖◝(⁰▿⁰)◜˖°  
**

** yea so im just gonna update this really quickly 'cause this is pretty late so i'll just talk to you guys later k**

John led me all the way to the back of the café, muttering, "This way, we won't get shoved out by those damn workers for not buying anything." I grunted in response. He then added, "...unless you want anything."

I kept quiet, and he replied to my silence, "Great! I don't have any money anyways."

We slipped into our chairs in a darker, dirtier part of the room. Settling our tired bodies- well mine, more particularly- upon the small wobbly table, John then lifted a finger, saying, "Wait a moment...", then bent his head down.

I peered my eyes over the table as I watched him shuffle through his pockets, searching for something.

"Ah." He took out dark, thick framed glasses- which I thought, _John... John wears glasses. _He placed them over his face, then brightened saying, "You look more beautiful when I wear these things, actually."

_Oh, stop being such a cheeky..._

I chuckled as I replied, "You wear glasses?"

"Yeh. Aunt Mimi bugs me about wearing them all the time," he grunted.

Before questioning who she was, I added, raising the tip of the right corner of my mouth, "You look quite cute in them, actually. Like... like Buddy Holly."

He smirked, saying, "...so you like this look on me, huh..." as he placed his hand on my knee.

For some reason, I allowed this. I just felt so exhausted by everything, I couldn't allow myself to snap back at him like I knew I would've done.

Pleased that I hadn't given him a negative response, he leant in closer. "Now, who did this to you, darling..." he gently touched my cheek, making me wince.

Should I tell him? No... I shouldn't even bother... for now, at least.

"Last night. Me and George were cornered in an alley as we were walking to his house..." I was quickly trying to improvise a story as he watched me intently with concern- which I actually appreciated, a lot- and curiosity. "A-and we were bombarded. A group of teenage boys tried to... to pin me against a wall- and one of them even pressed their lips against me, wanting more- but I refused... Then... that's when it happened... they started beating me."

"And may I ask, where was George during all of this?" he queried, tapping his chin.

"Well... he tried running for help, but when he came back... it was too late." I hated talking about George, last night- even if what I was telling John wasn't true. I was still too embarassed about what I had done with George last night- he probably though I was sex-crazed nut- probably didn't even want to see me ever again. I wouldn't.

"God dammit, George," he muttered, annoyed, "Why don't he just fight 'em off like a real man?" Cutting me off before I could respond, "...oh, and tell me what happened with him at his house last night..." He said, as if we were two close girlfriends discussing over a nonexistent cup of tea.

I began to blush like mad, stuttering, "O-oh, w-well-"

"So, how good are you at it, anyways?" he grinned, raising his right eyebrow mischieviously.

I felt slightly relieved when he interrupted me, but my face felt increasingly warm as he began to inch his hand up my skirt and slowly up my thigh- it reminded me so much of the mishaps of last night. I thought, _Well, the thing is, we didn't really do... 'that' anyways... so... _

"I- well... who's Aunt Mimi, anyways?" I spitted out randomly.

He seemed a bit angry and confused at my sudden change of subject, then softened, saying, "Oh... um, well, she takes care of me. Y'see... my mum passed away, not too long ago."

My heart seemed to drop in a sudden instant. "Mine too."

Tilting his head slightly, "Is that why you're here?"

I nodded.

The next few hours we talked to each other about everything that had happened to each other- I still couldn't give him an answer on who murdered my mum, and I still didn't want to tell anyone about my dream.

I felt a little touched knowing that we would be there for each other. It seems as if life moves along too fast for us to catch up, I guess.

Looking out the window on the opposite side of the room, I saw the sky had dimmed. Had we really talked for so long?... With weary eyes, "Well, I think we should be getting back now..."

Agreeing, we both snuck out the café- but I think by now the employees working there probably noticed us by then, quite frankly.

As we stepped outisde into the foggy night air, I sighed, and I could see the heat of my breath go out into the air.

Then coming across a sudden realization, I blurted out, "Where was everyone today, anyways?"

He chuckled as he replied sarcastically, "Well, there's this thing we have here... It's called... school... Y'don't happen to have that back home at Oxford, d'you?"

Flustered, I weakly shot back, "O-oh, then why were you outside with me all day instead? Shouldn't you be going to school and having an education of some sort?"

"Ah, the thing is, my dear-" he wrapped one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his chest, somehow in a way to comfort me, I guess- "you're _very_ right. But... I've found... something _much_ more important to do to occupy me time..."

I couldn't tell if he was trying to make some sort of shot at me, so I kept my eyes straight forward on the sidewalk ahead. After walking for a good while- I honestly didn't know if he was leading me back to Paul's house, I was still barely familiar with this city- John abruptly stopped me beside a dim-litted street lamp, situated behind some old manufacturing buildings. We were completely alone, as was the entire day we were together.

He propped me against the lamp's icy pole, sturdied my shoulders with his hands, then smiled brightly, "I want to remember you, just like this."

_Well, that's nice,_ I thought.

Moving his hands to my cheeks, my brain froze. _Wait. Where is this going?_

I stammered out loud quickly, "J-John, what're yo-" And as soon as those words escaped my mouth, he slammed his lips against mine, in a sense of hurriedness and desparity.

And I'll admit, I kinda wanted to enjoy this... but I didn't feel any connection there, as cheesy as it sounds. I didn't feel... I don't know. I just felt as if he didn't want _me_ as a person, just... another girl. I think.

I began to shove his chest away from me, but my feeble attempts were no use. He felt my gesture, but it only drove him to pull me in closer- which actually hurt, by the way... I was still feeling pretty weak and helpless from... _everything._

With one hand, he tugged at the loose strands of my hair, and in the other, he held a strong grip on my back, _dipping and dipping down..._

_Great. So this is when Elle Beckett get raped, isn't it? _I began to panic as he grasped my butt in the most vulgar manner, and shoved me against the feel in his jeans. I felt like screaming for help, but I was cut out by him practically shoving his tongue past my lips and down my throat._  
_

I could feel him smirk against my lips as I gave into him, standing there, limp in his arms. _I know who else I'd rather do this with_, I thought, chuckling in my head.

As he began holding my corner and using it to guide my jacket off my shoulder, I finally snapped back to my senses. Curling my hands into fists, I pressed them with as much force as I could against his wooly coat, and freed myself from his grasp.

Looking a bit distraught, he muttered loudly, "_W-what the fuck?!"_ I adjusted my clothes sharply then turned my heel around, and headed directly back the street where we came from.

Catching up to me, he tugged my shoulder and spun me around, and spat in my face, "Where the _hell_ are you going?"

"Away."

"I thought you were enjoying that, back there?" He gently moved me off the sidewalk and against the gate to some residential area, and continued, "You did, didn't you..." He crooned, smirking as he leaned into my face.

My cheeks began to feel warm, and I sputtered out, "No. In fact, I didn't." I shoved passed him and continued walking who-knows-where.

Grabbing my arm, he whispered softly, "Oh. Well, I'm sorry, then."

I began to feel a bit sorry for him then. I watched his as he stood there, a little bit disappointed. _I shouldn't be so hard on him. Then again, he's probably still vulnerable from what happened with his mother only a few months ago. I know I am._

Smiling softly, I replied, "It's alright. Let's just go, then."

He agreed politely, and began leading me up the streets to what I hope was back at my new residence. _But hopefully Paul wouldn't be around... hopefully asleep? I don't know... it's probably too early, isn't it..._

"Well, here we are," He said to himself as he buzzed the door.

Wait a second... this isn't the right house...?

As I kept silent in my utter confusion, I suddenly realized-

"Ey, it's about time you finally-" _George_ muttered as he swung open the door. He moved his eyes from John and stopped them, deadlock on me.

And before I knew it, I collapsed on the cold pavement, and blacked out.

**well then**...


	14. Bloody Hell

**A/N: im just wondering you guys- am i not doing that great on this story? 'cause i just all of a sudden stopped getting feedback on my story so im just like "shit im missing out on something" so idk are you guys still interested in the story? i can defintely improve like 100000000% more so just help me out, man**

"_Bloody hell, is she dead?"_

_What the hell?_

"_I don't know. What the fuck did you do to her?!"_

Still keeping my eyes shut, I felt myself laid down on some sort of leather like couch. Suddenly realizing where I was-

_"Me? Looked like-"_

I jerked up from the couch, bumping- crashing, more like- my forehead into... into- _was that George?! God dammit, when can I ever do anything right..._

"Was that really necessary-"

I turned my head to see him awkwardly holding his forehead and squinting his eyes at me to show his pain.

"Why am I here?" I demanded, rather loudly, now blushing.

"Yes, why _are _you here, exactly?" George questioned me, whilst trying his best not to look directly in my eyes- then turned to face John, "And I thought you were going to show me your new guitar, wasn't it?"

Sheepishly, he replied, "Does is matter, really? Anyways, you know how Mimi is- you always let me shack up birds here-"

"_What?!"_ I began throwing random pillows of the couch at him, screaming, "And- I- actually- thought-"

"Can we have some privacy, if y'don't mind?" John said blatantly as he interupted my fit- no, I'd say panic. And frustration, more like. For Christ's sake, I don't even like him! Or in... 'that way', to say the least.

Unwilling at first, George then shook his head and grunted in response as he walked out of the room.

Now alone, "What are you doing? I want to go home- which, by the way, you were supposed to bring me to!" I began spitting out things at him randomly, "And no, I don't want to 'shack' up with you, especially at George's house for that matter! So if you d-"

"Look-"

Obviously having no time for this, I swung one leg off the couch, preparing to make my way out the house, nonetheless this god-foresaken room.

Stopping me abrubtly as I began getting up-

"Elle. Please." He gently pushed me back onto the cushion, then positioned himself next to me.

Giving him a raised eyebrow, a gesture showing I was allowing him to continue- with little patience, I might add- "Uhm, well the thing is..." He chuckled awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I like you."

And the next thing I knew, he lookly gently into my eyes, brushed the hair out of my face with one hand, then leant in.

It's weird, you know... This time, I felt something. Something different. Was I beginning to like him? No... It was just another trick he used, probably on others before me, too.

He lifted my legs onto the couch, and laid me on my back as I was before. Stradling me in between his legs as he began digging his tongue past my lips, he began gingerly lifting my wrinkled, pleated skirt up to-

"What the fuck?!"

I tore my eyes open, only apalled to see John still ignoring George's comment, and kept with what he was busying himself doing. _What a dick..._

Pushing him off me and hurriedly sitting myself straight, I blurted quickly, "George, it's not what it-"

To help the matter, John cut me short by pressing his lips against mine once again. I could almost feel George's eyes burning right through me.

Releasing me, "Yeah, she's my girlfriend now, so if yo-" John began.

Girlfriend? _I barely even know you!_

Stammering out embarassed and angry, thinking, _I don't want to fucking be with you, _"What are you even-"

We all froze as we heard a lock being turned behind us.

"Fuck." John muttered under his breath. "His parents are here."

My brain froze in an instant. His mother most likely remembered me from early this morning... Searching George's eyes for help, all I found sadness and utter disappointment. _Please don't do this to_ me...

And without another word, George slugged out of the room, as if nothing had happened, leaving John and I in a panic stricked state as we braced ourselves as the door knob jostled behind us.

Not knowing what to do, John lead me directly behind the door, and as the door swung open, he grasped my hand tightly, tugged me out the door, past George's hollering parents, and onto the streets.

After we reached a certain safe point, I abruptly stopped mid point of the sidewalk. I had a plan to get out of his grip... but I didn't like it.

"_Ey... John..."_ I spoke in what I thought was in my most seductive- yeah, right- tone and sauntered up to him as he stopped and turned around in confusion. "_I really like you too..."_ I saw his eyes widen and began smirking as he came in close to me, watching me continue, "_And I think it's about time you saw..."_ He licked his lips as I began unbottoning the top botton of the collar of my dress, "THIS!"

I sprinted as fast as I could away from him, as far and as fast as I could muster until I could no longer hear his yelps echoing from behind my ear no longer.

After straggling for quite a bit, I found a familiar set of building nestled in a residential area. Walking around searching for that one particular house, I spotted it- right smack there, in front of me.

Finding the door locked this time, I cleared my throat uncomfortably as I knocked on the door, hoping Paul wouldn't answer. Waiting hesitantly, I began to hear heavy footsteps pounding on the opposite side of the door. Here we go...

"Elle, where have you been?!"

To my relief, Mr. McCartney answered the door, looking a bit disoriented and worried.

"It's alright. I'm fine." I croaked as he pulled me into the house and shut the door gently.

"Well I'm glad," he smiled gently as he pulled me into a slight hug. "Anyways, we were just having dinner, so you might as well join us."

He lead me to the dining area, and my body felt frozen as my eyes laid on that one boy, with the hair slicked up and the impratical leather jacket...

Almost having to push me into a seat across from Paul, Mr. McCartney then settled himself at the head of the table. I turned to see Mike staring at me as I sat next to him, and I returned a weak smile to him, only to receive a quick turn of the head in return.

I sat quietly as I poked my fork around the meal sitting on my plate with no intention of eating it, although I was quite hungry... I hadn't eaten all day, after all. Anyways, maybe not eating will improve my look, after all, I thought reasuringly to myself. In one hand I kept shoving my food one way or another, and kept my other hand tucked under my leg, waiting for it to get that numb feeling.

I kept going over my head how desperately I wanted to leave, as I felt Paul was watching me with piercing eyes... Even as I hung my head, staring intently at my plate for no just reason at all.

Clearing his throat, "Well," We all lifted our heads and turned our attention to Mr. McCartney at the opposite side of the table. "I think we're all very glad to have Elle here-" Paul grunted as he turned back to his plate. Ignoring him, he continued, "And I think it's about time you go to school here as well. You are still a growing student, so we obviously shouldn't stop there... Anywho, I already assigned you to an excellent school here, and I think you'll be very pleased to being taught there. Your first day will begin first thing tomorrow."

I nodded in response, although I really despised the fact of going back to school. I'll admit- I'm pretty okay at school, but when it came to the work- the tests, the projects... that was my falling point. And how could I possibly fit in with Liverpool kids?...

"Oh, and Paul, you should show her the way there too!" he smiled brightly as he smacked his hands together. I saw out of the corner of my eye Paul choking on a piece of beef he had just chewed. "Wouldn't want you to get lost your first day, now would we?" No actually, I wouldn't mind... I'm quite used to it by now, by the look of it... Without looking at either of us for some sort of form of agreement, "Isn't it a splendid idea? It is! Now all of you upstairs, I expect all of you to be punctual on your time tomorrow."

I waited until I saw both Paul and Mike go up the stairs, and said quietly to Mr. McCartney, "Goodnight."

"Have a good night's rest, Elle."

I then trudged my weak body up the creaky stairs, hoping for tomorrow to never arrive.

**BIG QUESTION, you guys: should i make the school an all girls school like in liverpool, or should i bend the rules and make it a lil interesting by making it a boy/girl school? yall let me know **


	15. When the Day Met the Night

**A/N: I'm glad to hear you guys are still interested! And thanks for the awesome feedback and for letting me know what you think of the story, I just want to give you all like an oscar or something just for that idk you guys deserve all the awards**

**your reviews always motivate me to write more, so keep em coming in**

**And in regards to the review about it lately being confusing- can you elaborate more? Should I slow down the pacing of the story more, or...? If you could help me out with that, that'd be awesomeee and thanks for letting me know **

***bows hat* now, on with the show**

***draws show curtains open***

I woke up about a half hour late, with a horrible thudding, pounding, feeling in my head. Stubbornly recalling having the same dream I had the first time sleeping on this bed, I rolled over onto my chest, pulled the pillow into my face, and screamt softly into the pillow, muffling the sound. I wish I could just forget that dream... haven't I taken enough _as it is_?

Turning over onto my back once again, I stared at the ceiling blankly for a bit, in no rush at all to get out of bed. Hearing the commotion of people moving about on the floor below, I rubbed my forehead in frustration of having to wake up so early- what was it? Eight? Okay- maybe it wasn't so bad, but give me some slack, _alright_.

I sighed as I spotted a crisp new uniform folded neatly on my desk. Rolling myself out of bed with a bit of resistance, I practically crawled over to the table, unable to give in a full effort to simply move. _Boy, am I going to do great at this school... Talk about work ethic. _I furrowed my brows in annoyance as I picked up a plaid skirt (which reminded me too much of the one I left back home from my old school), a white button-up blouse, some sort of coat or tweed blazer with red trim, and an ugly pair of black- no, greying- knee high socks.

Lastly, I found an old leathery brown satchel backpack, picked its hook up, and slipped into a pair of my lucky- but old and worn down- white sneakers. I couldn't help but think that they _couldn't possibly_ have some sort of objection towards _shoes_, could they...? I sneaked out of the room and into the bathroom as quick and quietly as possible, careful of the floor creaking beneath my weight.

Slowly shutting the door behind me, I quickly took off my sleeping wear from the night before, and hastily decided there was no need to take a shower. I really _didn't_ want to go through that kind of torture again. Slipping my blouse and skirt on, I then carefully made the tight sleeves of the blazer over my arms, wincing as it clung to all the wrong places.

Then for about the next minute, I hopped around the small bathroom like a small child as I pulled the itchy socks up till it hit below my knee. Taking a quick glance at my uniform, I shivered uncomfortably- _whoever designed this definitely got what they wanted_. I then slipped my shoes back on, slung my new bag over my back, and picked up a wooden paddle brush I found on the top of the shelving cabinet. Just as I was about to start combing through my hair-

I heard a hard knocking or crashing against wood, and the next thing I knew, Paul burst through the door, grabbed my wrist tightly (which was _excruciatingly_ painful) practically pushed me down the stairs, and steered me out the house.

Letting go of me after I made multiple yelps at him to release me, he muttered, "I'm not going to be late just because you decided to spend five hours brushing your hair." Before asking when had _he_ ever been interested to going to school on time before, I decided to keep quiet, knowing he would probably do something dreadful to me.

We ran to the bus stop- sprinted, more like- just as it was beginning to start rolling again. Screaming at the bus (assuming that would help) and waving for it to stop, we then climbed onto the already packed bus, filled from row to row with students wearing identical uniforms.

As the doors shut behind us, Paul casually strolled to the back of the cramped bus, acting completely oblivious to me. I saw him take a saved seat next to John, who spotted me and gave me a sly smirk, although I have no idea if and why he would still feel 'that' way after what I had done last night.

_Okay. Anyways. Way to go, Paul. First day of school. Now what to do..._

Leaving me awkwardly standing at the front of the bus as it began moving, jerking me awkwardly from side to side, I spotted George sitting by himself in the midsection, staring out the window intently, although it seemed as if he didn't really have any interest at all on what was going outside.

As I was contemplating the pros and cons of sitting next to him, I heard a girl with a very heavy accent near the front say, "Ey! Why don't you sit 'ere with us?" impressively loud over the chitter-chatter going amongst the bus. My eyes turned to a girl who seemed my age, with pretty chestnut hair that fell past her shoulders and blue eyes, waving her small dainty hand in the air at me. Without much thinking, I squeezed through the aisle and into the the seat with them, obviously not fit for three people. Peering over at the girl farthest from me, she obviously had a tougher- yet more _genuine_ look about her. She had these amazing silvery-grey eyes, and had cropped, red hair- not quite like my colour, more like an auburn- that touched barely past her ears.

"Hi. My name's Emma Ashbury." Her eyes shined brightly as she stook out an outstretched hand, shaking mine. "You must be the new girl, is that right?" Ugh. I did not want to become the 'new girl'. I just wanted to go into that school and melt into the crowds, _definitely _not to stand out.

Finally taking notice to me- apparently she wasn't aware I was even there till then- "Oh, hey- I'm Scout Luna." I was surprised to hear an American accent. She looked as if she'd been here for a while, but looked no more as excited as I was. I guess we come from all over, then.

She nodded her head at me, and I replied quickly, "I-I'm Elle. Elle Beckett. You could call me Ginger as well, if you'd like. It's my middle name." I blurted out, feeling extremely awkward sitting next to such pretty girls, specifically my own age... I felt my self esteem plummet off a cliff.

After continued silence, I piped up, "I like you last name by the way, Scout."

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself, kid." She gave me a sort of 'friendly' smirk, then crossed her legs and arms.

"So, Elle- d'you happen to know your schedule yet? I could show you around your classes so you won't get lost," Emma quipped, looking at me.

Suddenly remembering the satchel, I slung it off my shoulders quickly and tore it open, shuffleing through all the stuff Mr. McCartney had packed for me. I'd have to thank him later for all the work he's put through with... since I got here.

"I think- it might- be in- here somewhere-"

"Oh! I think this is it-" She gently tugged a folded yellow piece of paper out of the crook of my bag- I have no idea how she'd spotted it- and flatened the wrinkled, official looking paper on her skirt.

Both Emma and Scout leant in to read the document, making me feel a bit unincluded- although I probably wouldn't get what it was saying anyways, so...

"Ah." Scout cleared her throat continuing, "You have English with me. Prepare yourself, Ms. Kingsley is probably about the most crotchity old woman you'll ever meet."

"But," Emma interjected, "You have Theatre with me! Oh, you'll just have a great time- and look, you have Physical Education with us at the same time. See, you won't have such a bad start after all."

Leaning in close to me intensely, "Unless you don't like us," Scout then leant back in her seat casually.

"Oh, stop it-" Emma began laughing to show Scout was only joking, seeing how uneasy I looked. "But you do like us, d'you?..."

"Yes, of cour-"

We all lurched forward in our seats- me, slamming my face into the seat in front of me- as the vehicle halted to a sudden stop. The balding bus driver stood up in the front, catching all of our attentions, and announced loudly, "Liverpool Institute students. Time to get out."

_Well, that was pleasant, _I thought sarcastically as I rubbed the bridge of my nose as I stood up simataneously with the rest of the students. Emma slipped my schedule back into my hand as I slung the leather bag on my back once again.

As the people in the row before us began moving out and I began moving in, I was slammed roughly back into Emma, nearly falling backwards, as I saw Paul shove me out of the aisle so John and his possé could go out first. "Whoops," he laughed, and like machinery, his friends laughed in unison as well.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George behind us, and he had certainly seen what had just occured- but he held a blank expression on his face that showed no concern whatsoever.

I began to feel tears well up in my eyes as I finally got off the bus, and Emma hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Don't worry, they're all fucking twats." Deciding not to say I was living with the biggest twat of 'em all, Emma then released me and patted my eyes with her sleeve.

"C'mon, Ginger- let's get to class." Scout slung an arm over my shoulder comfortingly as we walked our way onto the campus.

***closes show curtains***

**what do you guys think? do you like emma and scout?...**

**and wow paul what even**

**late: happy fourth of july to any of my fellow american readers! **

**early...: happy early bday ringo, u go gurl**


	16. But You're Wearing Pajamas

**A/N: I took some time with this chapter, and it turned out pretty long so... hecck ya *puts on shades***

**Okay, so this chappy (bringin' back the good old days) will _pretty much_ be her first day of school, so hold tight. And I kinda rushed to get this out there, so I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar errors or stuff like that.. and thanks for the reviews! They're really motivating me to write more and I REALLY appreciate you guys that give me a lot of feedback on it. (Even those that just let me know if I'm doing a good job or not. Y'all are so adorable) It means a lot, and it really helps me think about this story more and what to do in the future. **

**see ya laters**

"Everyone, take your seats." An icy cold voice rang from the back of the classroom, as a rather old woman with grey hair packed tightly into a small bun at the crown of her head made her way down the aisles and rows of wooden classroom desks, marking a tally- or a suppose an attendance- on a piece of paper clipped to a battered clipboard. "Meredith, _please _get off of John."

My head snapped behind me as I was disgusted to find a girl with perfect, bouncy hair- I could only see the back of her head- practically devouring John in the middle of the cramped little classroom, on his desk. Or the other way around, I don't know. I rolled my eyes and turned to Scout, who was fumbling with the chipped polish on her fingers as she leaned her back beside the grubby classroom wall. "Ignore them," she said flatly without bringing her head up, "It's kind of my daily routine. The rat's been diggin' him in since the sixth grade."

I shuddered at the thought of it, when I heard a _snap!_ of wood smack against my desk, making me jump up. Apparently, the last available seat in the class was in the front row, so I didn't really feel great about my situation for the day to come. "_And **who** are **you**?_" I gulped as I slowly looked up at the frail but daunting woman standing in front of me. Her back was slightly arched under her brown cardigan, and she wore a grey wool skirt that fell to her ankles, sitting directly above shiny, black shoes that had a sharp point at the toes- _probably to stab my back when I'm not looking,_ I thought uneasily. I looked directly at her slightly wrinkled face, past her shiny, wire-rimmed glasses, and said rather stupidly, "I'm n-new."

"Oh really?" she raised one eyebrow as she lifted her glasses to peer down at the sheet sitting on her clipboard, which she had rudely slammed against my desk earlier. "_They didn't tell me we were getting another one... giving me all the work..._" I heard her mutter her breath until she stopped at the bottom, then looking even closer, "Are you Beckett, Estella?"

"Y-yes, I am." I could feel my body heating up under my uniform, and felt it was safer not to correct my name.

She turned around on her heel without another word, and made her way behind her cluttered desk, to the chalkboard, then turned around to face the class once again. "Class," she said in an attempt to catch our attention, but to no avail. She then banged her clipboard rather loudly against the board, and threw it on her already piling desk, satisfied to have the class silent. "Now," she announced, waving an arm in my direction, "We have ourselves a new student today." _Oh no. _"Her name is Estella-" I heard some people snigger behind me- "and I would wish for you all to welcome her."

I heard a few _Hello_'s and _Welcome_'s here and there, and I cringed as I heard John say loudly behind me, "Ey! I know 'er!"

"Oh, that's very nice John." And with that, she turned back to the board, as if nothing happened. A wave of relief went over me as she went on to write our assignment on the board. "You all will be working on a new project-" I heard from the back of my head a few groans- "and you will all be working individually. Each one of you will be making either a story, skit, poem, or song that _you will perform_ in front of the class; but the subject must fall on something you care or believe deeply about."

I sunk back into my chair in disappointment. _A project? And I have to perform it in front of a class full of strangers too? _

"It will be due after we return from holiday. Now, if open up the textbook sitting on your desk-"

And that was how it pretty much progressed for the rest of class. As I was reading from the textbook, I would sometimes veer my head to the right and burst out giggling to see Scout slowly falling to sleep, then snap back up, frazzled, as her head fell onto her book. But then, of course, Ms. Kingsley would shut me up by looking me into the eyes with her cold glare.

Then there was science- which I had alone- but I didn't quite mind until the 'partnering up' part. And of course, I had performing arts with Emma- which was actually pretty fun, to be honest. Everyone there was so friendly and weird, I felt like I actually kinda fit in. We ended the class with some improv games, but I had to sit out in probably the first three minutes because I probably have the brain of a slug. No offence to slugs, anyway.

After that, we had probably the shortest lunch break ever in existence, and I just _barely_ had a chance to finish the leftovers Mr. McCartney had packed for me in my bag _and_ figure out where my next classes were.

So, the day went on- social studies, which I with Paul- which was a _pretty_ terrible experience, _considering_ he sat right behind me and the entire time he flicked little makeshift spitballs in my hair, and practically volunteered me to answer all of the questions in class. So when the bell rung for that particular class, I sped right out of the room, running my shoulder into an icy Meredith- I failed to apologize, though- and ran out to my next class, hoping Paul wouldn't be there for that one, either.

But my next class wasn't so great, actually.

"Ey Ellie! Sit next to me!" I shuddered as I spotted John waving his hand frantically in the air at me as I entered through the open door, as if he were a small child, trying to catch my attention. Rolling my eyes, I thought, _It can't get any worse, can it?_ and sat in the empty seat next to him.

As I was half paying attention to John, looking directly at the board in front of me, I felt my whole body froze as I saw a familiar face walk into the room, right as the bell rung. "Well look who finally made it," John stated loudly as George took the last seat, directly in front of us. The entire time our teacher was lecturing us about mathematics, they were exchanging notes like small schoolchildren- I although felt rather left out, wanting to know what they were talking about. From the looks of it, George still seemed pretty uncooperative, looking annoyed every time John tapped him on the shoulder to pass him another slip of paper.

I hurriedly took sloppy notes as I was half watching our teacher and the notes on the board, but at the same time, I was keeping an eye on those two- I felt as if they were talking about me. _No... probably not. It's definitely something stupid, like some girls they got at a party a week earlier, _I thought to myself, now annoyed as well, finding them both _so_ distracting. I felt my face get red every time I saw George take a small glance behind his shoulder to get a quick peek at me, then hastily looked at the wall behind me to pretend like he hadn't seen me, when he accidentally- _accidentally?-_ looked me in the eyes when I was taking another look at them.

I made another sigh of relief as the class finished- only one more left to go- dreaded _physical education_. I made my way out to the school yard, where they held the girls' and boys' locker rooms. Knowing I neither had a locker or a uniform, I made my way to the PE office, where I met another woman with an icy demeanor, but this time, with a puffy jacket and matching pants, and had her hair tucked into a cap.

"Erm- I'm a new student, and I was wondering if-"

"Ah, another one." She turned around with little thought, reached into an overflowing basket of PE uniforms sitting in a dark corner of the room, and threw one at me. I awkwardly caught it, then after inspecting it half-heartedly, I found it was a _used_ one. I sighed regretfully as she said, "And you can worry about your stuff later. Just borrow someone else's locker for now."

Dismissing me, I then walked out of the office and into the girls' locker room and found Emma and Scout, chatting away at their lockers as they spotted me. "Ey, Ginger! We didn't know you'd make it through the end of the day!" I gave her a weak smile in response as I said, "Do you mind if I share a locker with you guys today? I don't think mine will be ready for a while..." I thought, remembering the woman giving no information on when mine would be ready.

I quickly changed into the dingy shirt and shorts, and ran after the others onto the yard- which was, in fact, _freezing._ The entire class- boys and girls- huddled together on the only patch of green grass (there was snow still on the ground) as wind blasted against us. It was quite ridiculous, actually- it must've be such a scene to watch thirty or so teens in tee shirts and shorts huddling together like penguins for dear life.

"Okay," the woman from earlier said loudly, clapping our hands to get our attention, "Today, we'll be doing... _soccer._"

There were a chorus a depressing sighs and _boo_s, and Paul spoke up from the crowd, "We're freezing!"

"It's not _that_ cold," she blatantly said in response.

I scoffed as John shouted out, "But you're wearing bloody _pajamas_, for Christ's sake!"

The next thing we knew, she glared, pulled out her whistle, and shouted, "_Twenty laps, Lennon! Around the yard! Now!_"

We all burst out laughing as he jokingly dropped his head and trudged out of the group, but was pulled back to reality when she blew the whistle once again. "Split into two teams, _go_!" Everyone hurriedly scuttled to find their own familiar group of people, but in the end, it seemed more like the popular group of people against the rejects. _Guess where I was_.

As we began our starting positions, I saw out of the corner of my eye Paul and a few other boys in his team putting their heads together, and looked like they were making some sort of tactics with what they were going to do in the game. I hesitantly looked at my side, where everyone was either sticking their arms inside their shirt for warmth, or kicking the ground, unsure of what to do. And of course, _I_ was stuck to be the goalie, since, of course, _who else_ would they pick on?...

As they scored goal after goal, suddenly, I saw Paul at the head of the soccer ball. He was making his way towards the net, when I thought quickly to myself, _Okay, time to stand up, show him that you- _

_Ow!_ I fell back on the moist grass, grabbing my nose in pain. I could hear in the faint distance someone blowing the whistle. A crowd had not yet formed around us, and as Paul made his way to help me up, I snarled nasally as I clutched my wounded nose, "_Why would you do that_? That was _definitely_ on purpose!" Ignoring me as he grabbed my hand to pull me up, he mumbled curiously, "_What's this..._"

"_What the hell are you_-" My entire body seemed to freeze in place as I saw him stare down my wrist, still traced in little lines of blood. _How could I forget?! I'm such an unbelievable idiot. I can't even... _"I-it's nothing. I'm fine, forget about it-" I walked past him, and when I was at a safe distance, I ran, and ran, and ran 'til I could no longer see anyone.

**like... wow? was this a good chapter? I hope it wasn't a little repetitive or run-on... hope you guys liked it! let me know!**

***something i haven't done in a while as well***

**B) ~peace**


	17. All Too Well

**A/N: wow, it sounded like you guys really liked the last chapter! and ohhhh my god are so adorable like that last review with the "aggresion"- yeah, that made my day. Thanks for all the reviews, they always make me feel pumped to start writing more- and also, thanks to that one particular reviewer; i'll definitely try to keep the story more slowed down or paced out better from now on :-))**

**I also apologize that this is a quickie little chapter (imagine writing 1.5k+ words on a 3" by 2" screen at one in the morning!) but i hope you guys enjoy, and of course, any feedback at the end will be greatly appreciated!**

I_ hate myself. I hate everything. _I sobbed into the already dirt stained shirt, that read in faded, mustard yellow printed block letters, _Liverpool Institute_, and below that in even larger letters, _Sports_, against a fading red background.

Hoping I would simply disappear, I thought, _He probably thinks I'm even more of a freak_, pushing my forehead onto my knees a little harder as I hid behind a large pine tree, probably far off campus by now. _I think I'll just stay here, forever, actually... nobody needs me, anyways. They're better off without this mess..._

And truth be told, I sat there for quite a while- but after some time alone, I began to appreciate it- well, not necessarily, but otherwise- with myself and my thoughts. It almost seemed peaceful, twiddling a broken off twig between my fingers thoughtlessly.

_Well. I guess everyone really does hate me then, _I thought grimly as I watched the daylight cast onto the tall, bushy green trees slowly disappear as the evening went on. ...It had appeared to be an eternity before I heard anyone come and find me sitting there, probably like a heavy load of nothingness occupying that small area behind the foliage.

"Elle? You've got to be _fuckin' kiddin' me-_ is that really you?" I heard a foot stomping over leaves and snow, hearing the voice come closer and closer. I lifted my now dry, tear stained face to find John, still in his PE uniform as well, looking down at me with a quizzical expression etched upon his face. Stuttering, "W-what are you doing here?" The sun had nearly set by now.

"Oh- well y'know how Ms. Porter made me run laps earlier?... Yeah, I kind of... wandered off... But needless to say, here I am!" He laughed, settling himself down next to me in criss-cross position. I smiled a little, seeing how his childish sense of wonder could intertwine with how slackish John could be. Not directly looking at his face, "Well, at least you came to school today, right?"

He chuckled softly, then rubbed a thumb gently across my cheek, making my face burn as our eyes slowly met. Asking with concern, "Now... tell me what _you're_ doing here..."

"O-oh." I quickly stood up, alarmed, not wanting to get into anymore trouble, nonetheless with John. "We should go now, anyways. It's getting pretty late." This time, I stuck my arms firmly to my sides, wrists facing my thighs, as I marched back towards the unclear path to what I remembered was where the campus was.

"Hey-" Catching up to me, tousling up his- now faltering- slicked up hair, "What's the rush with you? Can I boy get any time with his girl at all?! Really, it's quite shock-"

I shut him up with a quick glare- thanks to the only new thing I had learned from Ms. Kingsley- and pestered him quickly as we walked sided by side on the unclear dirt path, "And what's up with you and that Meridith girl anyways? Can't you two get a room of some sort?"

Smirking slyly as he bumped an elbow into me, "Nah... she just comes around as she pleases, actually, which a boy like myself can't argue with..." Leaning in even closer into my face, "Is someone... jealous?"

I scoffed in response, kicking the snow on the path as we walked, rather unsure of what to say. Suddenly remembering, "Ey... what were you and George talking about, before? I hope you do recall distracting me _terribly _in my first ever math lecture in my new school... Not quite the proper welcome, is it?"

Thinking for a quick moment, he then quipped, "Well, you see, if I did a such a terrible job in distracting you, you wouldn't be so miffed about it, would you?" Rolling my eyes, he then continued, "Ah, you wouldn't be interested." He shook his head slightly as he watched the path ahead of us with a strange kind of intensity.

I grunted, "Oh, c'mon, John! Please..." I tugged his arm, then raising an eyebrow at him as I remembered, "You weren't talking about me... were you?"

"No, in fact, we weren't!" he sputtered quickly, his footsteps thudding harder on the ground below us. "Well you have a shitty way of showing otherwise," I spat, getting frustrated. _God dammit, why won't he just tell me?!_

As we approached the familiar yard from the incident the occured earlier, I felt chills go down my spine, and it wasn't just thanks to the chilly weather. But that didn't help, either. The yard had a sort of... 'spooked' aura about it at night, if that makes any sense for that matter._  
_

Dragging us off the subject, "D'you want to get your clothes changed?", he piped up suddenly, as we strode across the icy grass. Feeling my cheeks heat, I stammered, "I b-beg your pardon?"

He burst out laughing- making me feel rather stupid- and smirked as he spoke, "That wasn't what I meant. I was going to suggest that I help you get into the girls' locker room to get your things. ...Well, unless..."

"Oh, no no no no no, that'll be just fine. Thanks."

As we approached the shaded door, I felt the door knob in the darkness and jiggled the knob, only to find it was locked. "John, you really have to think this through before-"

"Step aside, ma'lady." He flexed and stretched his arms like a show, as if he were preparing to preparing to pull out a rabbit out of a magician's hat, then, indeed like magic- _click! _"There you have it." He pushed the door open in one broad movement, letting the light coming from the night sky fly across the dark room.

"How did you-"

"Easy. Me and the boys come in here all the time," I could barely see the outline of his face grinning, "I guess you coul say we have a rather solid system worked out for us here."

Disgusted, I decided to shake off the thought, and stepped cautiously into the still unfamiliar locker room. I felt my ways up the walls, trying to remember where Emma's locker was- I'm sure if I take another left-

"_Erm- that's not another locker."_ I heard a soft moan come from in front of me, and I quickly moved my hand, realizing- "I'm so, so sorry-"

"No no, that was alright, darling. I didn't mind, actually."

"Shut up."

I continued making my way through the aisles of lockers, 'til I bumped against a wall. I'm sure it's here... I slowly moved to my left, and found myself at what I remembered was the exact location of her locker. "Uh...can you?" I asked expectantly as I felt his presence around me.

"Yeah, no problem, babe." I heard a clanking against the metal that was the locker, and heard yet another _click!_, and felt a slight breeze against my already chilled body as the locker whizzed open.

"Thanks," I muttered quickly as I stuck my hands inside Emma's locker, feeling around a pair of sneakers, loose papers, _her_ physical education uniform, then felt my hand against a soft, cool surface. I smiled to myself as I picked my backpack out of the locker, and hastily stuffed it in John's direction.

Ignoring his gutted yelp, I continued fishing through her locker with little guilt, thinking, _Emma probably didn't even try to look for me. Or on a lesser note, Scout. I mean nothing to them, _as I fished out bits and pieces of my school uniform.

After I pulled at the last piece of my uniform- one of the drasted, itchy, knee-high socks- I waited for John to say something, but only heard silence. "_I'm not going to change here, if that's what you're waiting for."_

"Ey, at least I tried," I heard him sheepishly say next to me.

I rolled my eyes, then hastily stuffed my uniform into my bag as I asked, a bit out of breath, "What about you?"

"What about me what?"

I grunted as he confused me for a moment, then continued as I shut the locker, "Aren't you going to get your school things from the boys' locker room?"

"Mm, I think I'll just sneak in there before school."

We walked in an uncomfortable silence as we made our way back out of the pitch black darkness, and back into the cool frosty air- the light that shone from the moon made everything outside seem so much brighter in comparison to the dark, cramped, and muggy locker room.

Agreeing to walk me back home, we made our way off the campus and onto the Liverpool streets, littered with street lamps to guide the way. As we shuffled our way through streets of snow, we would occasionally get a shifty eye by a passerby- probably because we were in clothes you wouldn't wear during the winter, nonetheless in everyday England... and I probably looked like I was beaten by a grizzly bear, mauled by a tiger, then ran over by Mr. Alvey's old Bentley. And I don't think it made John look any better as he walked next to me- or really just did any good for him on his part.

As we made our way back to that same, familiar looking neighborhood, John suddenly spoke up, "Elle..." Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, "What's the bloody deal with you and George anyways?"

**I don't think this was as good compared to the last chapter, but i really hope you guys enjoyed it! And of course, there'll be better stuff to come in the future...**

**ALSO. So like i know the smut i did a couple chapters back was pretty shitty so im kinda reading other people's stories and like (to be rlly honest) on a level of one to ten how hardcore do you want it to be **

**yeah its weird but you guys let me know so i won't appear like an awkward shitbag when i publish something stupid**

***tapdances away***


	18. Don't Be Cruel

**A/N: ok, like some of your reviews literally make me day like wow you guys aw shucks (and yes i hope elle and george get their shit together too... ಠ_ಠ) so in response to one of the reviews in the previous chapter, i totally agree with you that i _probably should've_ ended the last chapter on a more suspenseful note- i apologize, i capped it off there bc i was in shitty author mode last night. forgive me?**

**(and idk girl... i've read some pretty intense smut... _just kidding_ (...?)**

**°˖◝(⁰▿⁰)◜˖°**

"Elle..." Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, "What's the bloody deal with you and George anyways?"

_Me? George? _Continuing to stare at the cracked paved sidewalk ahead of us, my eyes intensified as my mind began to panic, but refused to let it show through. _George wouldn't have told him, would he?_ My breathing hitched for a moment before I simply shrugged, and chided as nonchalantly as possible, "Oh, stop being so obscure. What are you even talking about?", laughing uneasily. _Oh, I can tell this isn't going to end good..._

"Just-" He grabbed my arm sharply- making me wince a little- and turned me around to face him, eye to eye. Sighing exasperatedly, "No- _I fucking mean it._"

I remained silent, disecting and observing the features of his face, all strung up in concern and slight apprehension.

After what seemed like a millenia of cold, icy, silence- "_You fancy George, __don't you." _He said so quite blatantly, as if it were a statement, not a question he wanted to pester me with- as if he already knew. He released me from his grip, and for the first time since I had met him- seemed as if he didn't know what else to say. ''John, don't do this to me..." I croaked as he simply swung around, and continued walking the path to Paul's house, as if nothing had happened. Being rather tall, he took long, quick strides towards the front steps towards the house, making me sprint a little- which I did not appreciate at all, by the way- to catch up to him.

Running in front of him and blocking his path, a tad bit out of breath- "Just... wait... a... moment..." I rested my hands on my hips as I took a moment to catch my breath- receiving an annoyed look from him in return, "Wait-" he pushed his way off my shoulder and around me to the other side, looking rather miffed. _Wasn't **I** the one he was walking home, anyways?, _now annoyed as well. "_Let me explain, god dammit!_" I screamt a little too loudly for the location we were in, but enough for him to turn his head over his shoulder. He then slowly spun around fully to face me, still looking quite resentful even although his quiffed-up hair had patted down more than slightly by now.

Moving up closer to him as he waited expectantly, we stood under the front light that hung brightly above the door to the McCartneys' home- right on the front door step. I watched him slowly as he cocked his chin up, a part of his curly hair fallen upon his forehead, waiting for me to say something. Unsure of how to get everything of my chest, I spurted out unsurely, "Look, I know that you like me and all, but-"

Suddenly steaming, he interjected stubbornly, "Oh, so it's about you, then, is it? Let me guess- it's always about Elle. Elle this, Elle that." He raised his voice and whined, "_Oh, I'm Elle Beckett. I'm sorry I'm not available for you John. I just happen to be fucking your friend, that's all!"_

I began to feel tears brimming my eyes, in terrible caution of pouring over, and quickly cried out, "It's not what it looks like, John! You've got to-"

"And you know what the funny thing is? You were the one who comfirmed it, not him!"

_Oh, why should I have to defend myself anyways?! I'm not even dating you, for fuck's sake! All you are... you... you're just one big, fucking controlling bastard... _"Oh, you've _really _got to be bloody kidding me-"

Interrupting me once again, eyes brightening, "And if you wanted to know a little something _he_ shared with me today? Oh get this- you'll get a great kick put of this one-" Leaning into my face and pulling my chin up with a finger, bringing my eyes to his now deceitful ones, "_George. Doesn't. Like. You."_

I felt a hitch in my throat, and thought bitterly, _I c__an't fucking believe it. I was probably just another girl he got on any other given day. Did I even believe George would like me in the first place? I'm so stupid, stupid, stupid..._

Feeling utterly heartbroken and used, I stood there, at a loss for words. _Great, first Paul breaks me, now John? Who's next, George? Oh wait- I suppose he already did. _Feeling as if a large, heavy stone had suddenly dropped down to the pit of my stomach- he then simply chuckled, tapped my nose like a small child, then hopped off the front step, and strode away with a bounce in his step, not once taking a glance back.

I watched him stride away from that front door step, all the way down the block, and 'til he was around the corner and no longer seen. I had an overwhelming feeling of nothingness, unable to re-acess to my senses and, well simply- get on with my life.

_No, I won't cry. _I bit my lip as I leant on the door frame, closing my eyes for a moment. _You'll be alright, trust me. No you won't. I can try? He's a fucking twat, maybe he just made it up- what 'George' said? Just go upstairs. No, I want to go home. Well, maybe if you open your fucking eyes open and start moving, you'll find yourself back in Oxford!_ I thought sarcastically to myself.

I continually spoke back and forth to myself in my head, then slowly opened my eyes, only to be disappointed to find myself looking across a dimly littled street cluttered with cars, and a row of identical little brick houses. A never ending pattern.

I heaved a heavy sigh, slung my bag over my shoulder once again, and knocked on the door gently with my nimble fingers clunched unreasonably tight, as if I were holding onto some unseen object I couldn't let go of.

Surprisingly, I could hear footsteps move on the opposite side of the door almost immediately after. Hearing the door make a final _click_!, I composed myself quickly, knowing there would be some sort of explanation that would have to be given about my tardiness.

As I watched as the door slowly swung open, I felt my eyes widen and my body begin to shake as I saw who was opening the door- _Paul._

"Well, looks like somebody finally decided to show up!" He drawled, sounding like some sort of annoyed, overly attached girlfriend. Finding it best not to reply, I cautiously stepped beside him and into the front area, not feeling any safer as I was before.

_Was he angry at me? Oh, god..._

As I stood before him, I could feel his eyes burning directly through mine, as if he was trying to ignore the fact I was still wearing my PE uniform, or possibly the bruises on my arms... that he had given me... or my bruised, hopefully not broken- nose... that he had also given me... or what laid on the skin on my forearms.

"Um- w-where's e-veryone?" I croaked, just barely audible, as my eyes searched the rooms beside me for simply another human being. To put it simply, _I did not. I repeat, not. Want to be alone. With Paul._

I was no longer living in simply the fear of Paul- the uneasiness I had always had- but the literal fear he would do something terrible to me. _Yeah, so much for 'Paul' liking me. As if._

"Oh." He piped up, "Well, dad's sick so he went to bed early- and Mike's probably off in his room doing his homework or whatever he usually does-" Pausing for a moment to think, then said, "Would you like dinner? Well-" Adding quickly, as if he said something terribly wrong, "Dad told me earlier that if and when you showed up, I should feed you."

_If._

"No, I'm fine. T-thanks," I spoke, suddenly cautionary of everything I said or did. I gave him a small nod, then made my way up the stairs, my back slightly hunched. As I climbed my final step, I heard him clear his throat below me.

I turned my head slowly back down the staircase, seeing Paul lean against the banister. _Was he going to bring up what happened today? All he had done? Was he going to apologize?_

Holding my breath, I looked back down into his eyes wearily, waiting expectantly for him to say something.

He slightly tilted his head, then cautiously began, hesitantly- "Elle... this is a weird question, I know... but why do you have those... those weird scars on your arm?"

_Oh... So he has no idea. That's a good thing, right?... What should I say? _I chuckled, then replied, "It's much too silly for you to understand."

**again, not a very impressive ending, but i swear i tried :)) okie, how was it guys? oh, paul is so clueless...**


	19. Is It the Thirteenth Already?

**A/N: DONT WORRY GUYS I HAVENT FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS STORY AND**

**holy smokes its been like a week since my last update... im so sorRY ive just been a terrible student putting my school stuff to the last minute so i had to finish that but IM HERE NOW **_  
_

**READ TO YOUR HEART'S CONTENT**

_"You're late."_

I cringed as I slipped into my seat as (_or __w__hat I thought was) _as discreetly as I could; just when I thought Ms. Kingsley had her back turned, she just _had_ to catch me, as if my day- no, _life_- was getting any better. I woke up about half an hour late- apparently, Paul had neglected to wake me up (which I now consider isn't all that bad)- I had also skipped breakfast, _and_ missed the bus, thus making me trudge through sleet _and_ snow for _at least_ five miles.

I muttered a quick and unreliable '_sorry_', and settled myself at the same desk I sat in yesterday. _I suppose this is my permanent seat from now on, huh?_ I sighed and sunk into my chair tiredly as the unbearably icy woman turned her back once again towards the class to continue the lesson.

With my eyelids barely keeping themselves apart, I felt a nudging on my right shoulder. _Ugh, what now? _I turned my head slowly as it rested on my fist, which was propped up on the wooden desk with my elbow. I narrowed my eyes as I saw Scout trying to catch my attention- and she wasn't doing a rather sufficient job of it either... _Oh,_ _Scout. Scout who... probably thought it was best to leave me out in the woods to rot yesterday. _"_What do you want?!_", I hissed through my teeth, careful not to catch Kingsley's attention.

She gave me a somewhat puzzled look, slipped me a used napkin, and turned her head back to facing the lesson- _as if _she were actually interested. I scowled quietly to myself as I casually peered down at a paper napkin with little coffee rings on it, and in a very small font in blue ink, scrawled messily, wrote- _What happened yesterday?! _

_What does she mean, 'what happened yesterday'? _Angrily, I felt around my backpack for a pen and started scribbling on the napkin- which, admittedly, was rather difficult. _Oh, how could you not know? Well, oh, maybe the fact I was abandoned in a forest on my first day- well, I guess it doesn't matter anyways. I was so unbelievably stupid to think I could even think I could stand a chance with the likes of you or Emma. _Flipping over the napkin to continue, _I'm so fucking sorry I had to bother you in the first place._ _Apologies._

Without looking at her, I shoved the note back at her direction, and continued to watch Kingsley lecture on about different types of poems and how they were composed- _limericks, sonnets, haikus..._

I felt another nudge on my shoulder- this time, harder- and found the note on my desk once again. Having little patience for really anything at the moment, I hastily opened the napkin, seeing our writing space growing smaller and smaller- What_ on earth are you talking about?! Are you being literal right now? At all? The last thing Emma or I remembered was hearing Porter blow her whistle and you running off to some god damned place, who knows. And trust me- we tried looking for you, for fuck's sake. We even stayed after school- hell, I think we even got lost. So can you just calm down for a moment, and know that we. Actually. Care?_

Oh. I felt my cheeks redden with guilt, and I hastily wrote back, _Uhm... __As I said, apologies?... Sorry. I've just been through a lot lately, and I've found I tend to react terribly to things._

I quickly passed it back to her, and got a quick response in return- _It's o-k. Don't beat yourself about it, Ginger. _And to finish it off, she put a quick sketch of a sun with a small smiley face in the center, making me roll my eyes and chuckle a little.

As I looked up to give her a small thumbs up, the bell rang- meaning it was time to get on with the rest of the day. Science whizzed by as quick as ever- and, then came my- newly decided- favorite part of the day- _theatre. _And let me tell you- I thought the drama room was probably the most amazing place in the world, in my eyes. It was honestly not a very large room- but it was big enough to hold everything it could possibly need- a small stage area, closets and shelves and containers of almost any costume or prop you could imagine- posters of musicals and plays, actors we would aspire to become ourselves, mirrors lining the walls to rehearse in front of- all set in front of walls painted in the most beautiful and tranquilizing shade of blue.

And my favorite part was the small circle of chairs, placed in an empty spot right in front of the stage- that was where the fun happened- the games, the discussions, who got what part (well, not yet of course- but it's bound to happen sometime, right?...) in the next school play- y'know how it is.

I found an empty seat, and almost seconds later, I was startled as to find Emma plopped in a seat next to mine. I felt my heart begin to stammer, "Emma, I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine. Scout explained to me what happened- and trust me, we really tried looking for you. In fact, I think we should be the ones apologizing!" She smiled, and we settled ourselves in our seats as our teacher cleared her throat. In a clear, melodious tone, she spoke, "Good morning, class. Today we will be working on character analysis- what makes a character? What is a character's..." She tilted her head for a moment, then continued, "...characteristics? Think as far and wide as you could possibly imagine." She began passing out worksheets when a student piped up, "Hey, what's today's date?"

"The thirteenth," responded another student on the opposite side of the circle. Stupidly, I blurted out without thinking, "Ey, today's my birthday." I mentally smacked myself in the head as I heard an almost instantaneous reaction of _happy_ birthday's. I began to blush as I said a quick "Thank you," and Emma grinned as she shook my shoulder, "Today's your birthday?!" Boy, did she sound excited- more than me, in fact.

"Yeah, it's no big deal thou-"

"Shh, I'm planning something in my head," she ignored me and grinned as she began brainstorming little scribbles on the margin of the worksheet. I rolled my eyes as I turned my focus to the piece of paper in front of me.

As I moved from class to class, I began to realize a new pattern forming- it was almost as if Paul and John had switched roles, or something... John became more aggresive towards me, and made snide remarks behind my back- and of course, his little possé was always nearby to give some nasty laughter to back him up.

I guess I could say I was obviously not getting good footing in the 'popularity'... or 'likable' category at my new school.

But- I find it startling, actually- Paul was the one I was more worried about. He no longer... bullied?- me in class. Well, of course he always looked disgruntled or stubborn when he spotted me in the hallways, or caught eye contact we each other in class. He was just... I think... trying to avoid me? Wait, no- scratch that, he probably was just trying to ignore me, I guess. That's good.

And as for... uhm, George- I think that ship literally sunk already... catastrophically. But I'll admit, I still like him- and it hurts. Bad. I could feel my heart snap just little by little everytime I peeked at him in class- and _thank God _I sat behind him. I don't know how I could even stand the tension of him sitting behind my back- I refuse to admit I overthink things.

I remember having those little school girl crushes here and there back in Oxford- and yes, technically I'm _still_ a school girl, but I digress- this... this was different... _so, so different. _But what makes this one the tipping point of them all was the fact that I already knew... that he didn't like me. And that was that.

I sighed as I wiped my forehead as I shut the door to my- _finally- _new physical education locker, which was exactly on the opposite row of Emma and Scout's, exactly three lockers down- and I guess I was pretty greatful for that. I'm also greatful that nothing bad happened in class. _Also, _for the fact that I didn't get placed in the fucking goalie position again- which probably contributes to that particular factor.

Straightening my uniform, I squeezed my way through a group of girls chatting away, blocking the walkway. Tiredly, I then leant my back against the locker next to Scout's, watching them finish up. "Are... you... done... _yet?!_", I whined, recieving a rolled eyes for Emma and a chuckle from Scout.

Shutting their lockers, Emma then abrutly turned to me, with a suddenly sinister like, sly grin etched widely over face. "_So. Elle." _

"Look, if it's about my birthday then-"

"Don't say that-"

"It's your birthday?", Scout interjected, puzzled.

Ignoring Scout, she then pursed her lips, continuing, "We are celebrating your birthday, and that's that." I heaved a heavy sigh as the school bell rung, announcing the end of the day. "Meet us at the Cavern tonight. Nine o'clock. Dress nice, darling."

She smiled, turned on her heel, and began making her way toward the exit. I then turned to Scout, who simply shrugged and said, "I guess I'll see you there, then. And... happy birthday?", and turned to follow Emma out the door.

**erm... so how was it? ((was it cheesy too like idk)) i know it wasn't really that spectacular, but i hope you guys like it! and... what will happen at the cavern?... **


	20. A Fool on the Floor

**A/N: uhmmmm so hey guys. i guess you could say i've been 'neglecting' my story for a while but tbh i've been super busy (plus i'm starting at a new school in like a week so im just like _shittt_) and i waste 95% of my life on tumblr too (ya if you have one hit me up)**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: i'm moving the story from 1958 to 1959, so from this moment on we will be reading at the viewpoint of (as of this chapter) December 13, 1959... (ya there'll be some re-arranging here and there but it'll work)**

**now read on my friends, and review n let me know what you think if you'd like. i'd like that as well..**

**oh and happy 174th bday to mick jagger**

_**lololololol im so professional **_**:-))**

I felt more or less like a gutted fish as I approached an intimidating, grimy little brick building, with bright red neon lights that shone above the front doors: _The Cavern Club. _Now that I think about it, I was probably, at most- an hour or so late. I followed my own intuition of finding out where this... 'Cavern' was on my own, because _apparently_ I didn't have the guts to ask Paul if he knew where it was... and _apparently_ I have this new found fear of Paul? ...Well, I suppose I could've asked Mike, I guess... _well shit._

Running impractical thoughts through my head of making _some_ sort of an excuse to leave- I don't think I'm that great at any sort of escape plan, now that I think about it- as I got there, I then shook my head, swallowed, and made my way towards the crowd of angsty teenagers blocking the doorway. I shoveled my way through the mob of teens, and had the horrible urge to lurch as the stench of cigarettes and heavy liquor that hung in the air left a sick feeling in my stomach.

"_They're about to play!"_

_"Move it, god dammit!"_

I rolled my eyes as I finally pushed my way through the doorway and into the dimly litted club. Smoke lingered in the air, and I squinted my eyess in an attempt to improve my eyesight- to no avail, apparently- as I searched the well over capacity room for a familiar face._  
_

"Hey, it's-"

"ELLE! OVER HERE!"

I turned my head in a split second, to find Emma waving her arms rapidly in the air, in an attempt to catch my attention. I breathed in deeply and sighed as I prepared myself for a long night as I pushed my way over to the booth that she, Scout, and a few more unfamiliar faces- that I may or may not have seen at school today- shared. I coughed uncomfortably as she engulfed me in a bear hug, her long locks of chocolately hair blocking my eyesight.

"Oh- sorry, I-" She let go of me, grinned, and starting fixing up my hair, "I think I maybe messed this up a bit- nope- _perfect. _You really don't disappoint, do you?" I smiled shyly as to have her acknowledge my efforts on trying to make an attempt to look good- as she had said earlier today, anyways. I decidely put my hair through a straightening iron- well of course my hair wasn't particularly curly, in the least bit- but for good measure, of course. I pushed my hair through a deep side part and swept my hair across my forehead, like I'd seen in fashion magazines back home. I then curled the ends to flip out, and teased the top portion of my hair vigorously, to get that "bump". And of course, I decided to wear makeup this time- just plenty of black eyeliner and mascara- and to finish it off, I wore a black, sleeveless a-line dress that cinched tightly at the waist and was done-over with red polka dots in a small print- not overly distracting.

Yes, I'll admit- I didn't exactly want to go, but it was still pretty fun getting to dress up.

I slid into the booth next to Scout, then followed by Emma. I nervously eyed the others sitting on the opposite side of the table. There was a girl with pointy black glasses, who held no facial expression whatsoever- and a few slightly non-intimidating looking boys. Scout quickly introduced me to them, and as soon as that was over- they seemed rather dull to me- Emma plopped a small, but heavy paper box on the table.

She cleared her throat loudly, and stood up- "Well, we can all say that we haven't known you for very long, but what we can say is that you've certainly made an impression on us," she then continued with a held tone of reluctance, "...now, because of this incredibly short notice, there wasn't much we could do- but as our new friend, we wanted to do something. Something special." Her grin widened as she continued, excitement lingering on her voice, "So... after school today, me and-"

"Ey, Ellie- is that her? It's actually her!"

I groaned internally as I recognized the voice. I cringed as I wheeled my head around to find- just my luck, right?- Paul and George- but minus John. In the same booth. Not to mention a little drunk as well. Which I've learned is never a good thing...

Emma, annoyed snapped quickly, "Shut up, will you Paul? We're in the middle of some-"

We were interupted by the loud, echoing sound of a guitar being plugged into an amplifier. We turned our attentions to the small stage at the head of the room, where a band was preparing themselves to play. The lead singer tapped the mic, and said, quite simply, "_Hello. We're Rory Storm and the Hurricanes._" ...and the crowd went absolutely wild. Especially the girls.

Paul sighed loudly beside us, "Why can't we be like that, George?..."

He was then cut off by the sudden start of music, and Emma, being equally frustrated, sat down abruptly. We listened to the band for about three or so songs- they weren't half bad, I must say- when we were suddenly blocked by the shadow of a person. "Elle... care to dance?" He bowed his head in my direction and stook his hand in front of me with a dramamtic flourish.

"Paul, what d'you want now? It's her birthday and-"

"Even better!" Scout quickly interrupted Emma and bent over to whisper at us, "Trust me. It'll be fun, think about it-"

"No way, I didn't even want to come-"

"_Please,_" they said in unison. Since when did Emma want to go Paul's way? I rolled my eyes and muttered stubbornly, probably barely audible under all the commotion- "Okay." They both jumped up in victory as Emma stood up for me to move up to Paul. I guess it would be 'sort of' fun... plus, I was completely sober. There couldn't possibly be any harm in dancing with Paul- also, in this state, he probably couldn't remember anything at all.

"Happy... birthday?" Paul questioned me quizzically as I moved up to stand next to him. I looked back at the group with reluctance- the others looked bored out of their minds- but Scout and Emma just shoo'ed me and ushered me on.

They gave me a quick thumb's up, as I felt my night- my seventeenth birthday- go from worse- to worser.

**so another lil quick one for you guys! sorry if there wasn't enough hype in this one.. hopefully that'll come in the next one?...**

**B)**


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